SONS
by Patcat
Summary: A dark ride.
1. Chapter 1

SONS

This will be a dark and long ride. "M" for later chapters.

Chapter One

He carefully examined the files and photos on his desk, and a satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He'd checked the evidence several times, and each time his suspicions about the head of the Mitesky family were confirmed. He knew he had to be careful with cases involving bad, manipulative fathers, but he felt he was right about this man. He'd confirm his findings, as he had since he'd returned from his suspension, with Eames, and then he would know he was right.

The rich smell of coffee tinged with chocolate reached him, and a large cup appeared on his desk. He looked up at a wind blown but smiling Alex Eames.

"Thank you," he said softly. "Do I owe you…"

She shook her head. "Not unless you've been here all night," she said as she shed her coat. "You'll have to pay then as part of your punishment."

"I've been good," Bobby said as Alex sat across from him. "I went home about an hour after you did. And I had a real dinner at the diner close to my place. Vegetables and everything." He didn't tell her that he pushed the food around his plate and that very little of it made its way into his stomach. He suspected that Alex knew that.

If she did, she didn't press the issue. "Did you get some sleep?"

"A lot for me," Bobby said. "I woke up early…And it really didn't make sense to go back to sleep."

Alex nodded. She'd heard this story before.

"But I used the time to figure out how George Mitesky did it," Bobby continued. He handed one of the photos to Alex.

Alex studied the photo and Bobby's notes for several moments while her partner sipped his coffee. "Yea," she said. "He did it. Now we get to tell his wife and kids that he's a fraud and a murderer." She sighed. "At least Ross will be happy that we cleared this so quickly."

"He likes you best," Bobby said. "You tell him. It seems like even when I being him good news, it goes badly."

"That's because you never take him the good news." Alex smiled, took the photo and notes, and stood.

"Thanks, Eames…For the coffee…And dealing with Ross…"

"Anytime, partner."

Bobby watched her walk away. It felt almost like before…before everything. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No," he thought. "Don't think about it….The work…Concentrate on the work…Do the work…It'll make her happy…And Eames and the work are all you've got…"

"Hey…"

Bobby looked up at a worried Alex, and hated that he was, as he was so often, the source of that worry.

"Ross said to move ahead on Mr. Mitesky. He's letting the Brass know what's going on, and want us to know we'll have his full support," Alex said.

Bobby twirled his pen. "He…He's been going out of his way to support us since…since…everything…"

"Yea…He has…And he should…He owes you," Alex declared. She grabbed Bobby's coat and her own from the rack. "C'mon…Let's get a bad guy."

By ten in the morning, they had George Mitesky and his lawyer in the interrogation room By eleven, an enraged George Mitesky had leaped across the table to punch Bobby. By eleven fifteen, the cut caused by Mr. Mitesky's large diamond ring had finally stopped bleeding just below Bobby's right eye, although a bruise was rising around it. By noon, Mr. Mitesky was in the not so gentle care of the guards at Riker's, and his lawyer was desperately pleading with the DA's office.

Ross appeared at Alex and Bobby's desks. "You all right, Detective?"

"Yes, Sir…Just a scratch…I'm afraid I underestimated his capacity for physical violence…Fortunately, he underestimated Eames." Bobby smiled at Alex.

"A mistake a person makes only once," Ross said. "Good job…both of you…" The Captain returned to his office.

Bobby reached for his mail. "Ok," he thought. "It's been a good morning…We've worked together well…We can do this…" He jerked as he saw the return address on an envelope.

"Bobby…What's wrong?" Alex saw the envelope and recognized the scrawl on it. "He's still writing you…"

Bobby looked at Alex and quietly and deliberately tore the envelope in half, then in quarters, and again and again until it and its contents were in shreds. He tossed them in his trash basket.

"I haven't answered any of his letter…I haven't called him and he can't call me. Haven't gone to see him…And that…" Bobby pointed at the basket. "Is what I've done to all of his recent letters…Haven't read them."

"C'mon," Alex said after a moment. "I'll buy you lunch…"

"You don't…"

"C'mon," she said gently but firmly.

"You know," Bobby said as they road the elevator. "I appreciate all these meals and coffee you've buying for me…But my financial state isn't quite that dire…"

Alex looked at him skeptically. "You know I can check on that."

"Yea…But you won't unless I get in trouble again…And I intend to try to avoid that."

It was a pleasant day for late winter, and they enjoyed the walk to their favorite diner. The owner greeted them as long lost friends.

"How," he asked. "Are my two favorite policemen? What'll you have?"

"Uh…I think just soup for me today, Gus," Bobby said.

"I'll take the deluxe club," Alex declared. "One of us has to keep up their strength."

They talked about safe and easy subjects at first. Her mother's continued if not as dramatic recovery and her nephew diverted Alex's attention enough that for a few moments she didn't notice that Bobby ate very little of his soup.

"Hey," she said gently. "I know you want to lose weight, but you gotta eat something."

Bobby smiled wanly.

Alex leaned forward. "It's that letter…It's Gage…."

Bobby lifted his spoon in and out of his soup. "Yea…It…It kinda takes my appetite away."

"I can understand that," Alex said. "What does he want from you?"

Bobby shook his head. "I…I really don't know…His lawyer…Thinks he may want me to testify about Dec's sanity."

Alex snorted.

"Oh, he's insane," Bobby said wearily. "But he knows right from wrong. He just doesn't care. I've told his lawyer that my testimony won't help his case…Probably hurt…Dec himself…He wants to talk to me…To make sure that…That I'm "engaged"." Bobby smiled bitterly.

""Engaged" with him, you mean," Alex said.

"Yea," Bobby admitted after a beat. "What he wants me to do…Is to save his reputation…"

"I'm not looking forward to his trial," Alex said. She pushed her sandwich's remains across her plate.

"I doubt there'll be a trial," Bobby said. "Dec may not live long enough…Or became sane enough…"

"How do you know that? I thought you weren't having anything to do with him," Alex said.

Bobby stirred his soup. "I…I check up on how he is…His health…Make sure he's getting decent care…I know," he said in response to Alex's despairing look. "But…Eames…He was a good man…A brilliant man…And he helped me…He saw what I could do…He taught me…Made me feel special…I know he's done terrible, terrible things…To me…But…But he saved me…I can't just abandon him…"

"Bobby…"

"I know…I know…But I've drawn lines…I'm not going to see him…No matter how much he begs…Any communication with him isn't direct…He can't call me…He can't email me because even if he knew anything about computers, he wouldn't have access to one…And his letters have to go through the prison's security…I used to send them back without opening them, but now I just tear them up. Like I just did…I'm not going to cross the line. I'm not going to let him."

"You sound like you really mean this," Alex said.

"I do…I do…" Bobby nodded. "I…I have to…" He moved his spoon around his soup. "I can't afford the energy…I…I've been in a very dark place for a long time…I've got to work to get out of it…And that…that takes a lot of energy…I just can't give it up to Dec…And…And he may not have much time…" He dropped his spoon and rubbed the back of his neck. "God…That sounds so cold…"

"Or realistic," Alex said gently. "He's that sick?"

Bobby nodded. "He's got some horrible illness that destroys nerve cells. That brilliant mind is turning into cottage cheese. The food poisoning and the self poisoning really hurt him physically. There's a good chance he might not even know me if I visited him. His lawyer tells me that there are some days Dec can't remember if he has a daughter. And there are others when he's as sharp as he ever was. But there are more bad than good days now. It's the sort of illness you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy and you'd never want your best friend to have. Since Dec has been both things to me…My feelings are mixed." Bobby tried to smile, but couldn't quite pull it off.

"God," Alex said. "I think I'm even beginning to feel sorry for him." She took a deep breath. "What about Jo?" As she asked the question, Alex wondered why she felt any sympathy for the woman who'd kidnapped her and left her hanging for hours.

Bobby sighed. "She could live for years. She could die tomorrow of an infection or blood clot. As far as her doctors can tell, she doesn't feel anything beyond the most basic responses. She doesn't need help breathing, but she has a feeding tube. She's comfortable, as far as they can tell. I'm fairly sure she wouldn't want to live like this, but she didn't have a Living Will or anything like that. Dec certainly is incapable of making any decision. There's no one else…"

"You visit her…"

Bobby shifted uncomfortably. "It…It gives me something to do on a Saturday morning," he said flatly. "And I get a lot of reading done."

"I wondered where you went now on the Saturdays we aren't working," Alex said gently.

"It's not like I really do anything," Bobby said. "I just sit there and read for a couple of hours…Make sure she's getting decent care…If I'd paid the same amount of attention to her before…."

"No…Don't do that," Alex said, more sharply than she intended. "Don't blame yourself for something that isn't your fault."

Bobby stared at his soup. "I…I'll try…" He looked up at Alex. "Does…Does it bother you…That…That I'm doing this?"

"You'd stop if I asked you…" Alex said after a moment.

"Yea…"

She reached across the table and placed her small hand softly on top of his large one. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for rating my opinion that high. You're doing a good and kind thing. I have no complaint about that. It's the sort of thing Bobby Goren does."

END CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

WARNING—Some graphic material at the end of this chapter.

On their return to Major Case, Bobby and Alex discovered a large pile of mail on their desks. "Sorry," the squad's secretary apologized. "The usual mail snafu."

"No bad news or envelopes, I hope," Alex said as she sorted through her mail, depositing most of it in the trash.

"Just this." Bobby held up an envelope and letter. "It's from a psych grad student at Cornell." Alex heard the controlled anger in Bobby's voice. "Doing a study of the Sebastian case. Wants my take on it…And on whether Declan Gage's failure in that case led to his collapse…"

"You didn't have anything to do with that case," Alex said.

"Yea…And any serious student of the case would know that," Bobby said. "Dec and I were out of touch by the time he worked that case." He tossed the letter and envelope into the trash. "This is someone trying to make a name…Or trying to get access to Dec…"

"You going to ignore it?" Alex asked.

"I've brushed off people with better credentials," Bobby answered.

The letter was forgotten until a little over a week later. Bobby and Alex dragged themselves into Major Case after a day of chasing leads and a suspect over most of Manhattan, parts of Brooklyn, and one of the worst neighborhoods of the Bronx. Thanks to their efforts, they finally had the suspect in custody.

"You don't have to process the paperwork right away," Ross told them. "He'll keep until tomorrow."

"He's not the brightest bulb on the lamp," Alex said. "But he does seem to be our guy."

"I think he had some help," Bobby said as he rifled through his mail. "Like Eames said, he doesn't have the brains…Or the initiative…A night in jail might encourage him to talk…Either scare him or give him a warm place to sleep…Either way, he might want to talk to us tomorrow…Oh…Damn…" Bobby stared at envelope.

"What is it?" Ross asked.

Alex saw the Ithaca postmark. "Your admirer again?"

"Admirer?" Ross asked as Bobby tore open the envelope.

"Grad student…" Bobby decided he could trust Ross. "Psychology. Wants to interview me about the Sebastian case."

Ross winced. "The department," he said deliberately. "Wants good community relations, Detective, but I think in this case you're under no obligation to speak with this person. As a matter of fact, my inclination is to order you not to have anything to do with this person."

"I'm with you on that," Alex said.

Bobby shook his head. "This guy isn't going to take a hint. I'm going to have to tell him as clearly as I can."

"He's contacted you before?" Ross asked.

"Just once," Bobby said. "I ignored his letter. Obviously he's not taking my lack of response for lack of interest." He moved in front of his computer.

"Don't be too rough on him," Ross said. "We were all students once."

Bobby glanced at the Captain. "Yea," he admitted. "I guess we always are if we're lucky. I'll be kind."

Ross nodded and returned to his office. Bobby stood and walked to the printer.

"Did it work?" Alex asked dryly when he sat at his desk.

"Yes it did," Bobby said. "I can get the printer to work…Sometimes."

He signed the letter, folded it, and slipped it inside an envelope. "There," he said, dropping the envelope in his out basket. "That should let Mr. Caldwell know that I'm not available for his study…or to give him publicity."

"Caldwell? That his name?" Alex asked.

Bobby nodded. "Mark Caldwell. Studying for a Master's in Psychology at Cornell."

"I'm curious," Alex said. "I think I'll just check up on Mr. Mark Caldwell."

"Curious? Is that what you call it when you're looking for an excuse not to do paperwork?" Bobby smiled.

"And just who haunts Wikipedia to try and change the entries?" Alex responded.

"That," Bobby said. "Is providing a service…What's wrong?"

"Caldwell. C A L D W E L L, right? M A R K?"

Bobby nodded.

"I don't find him listed as a student in the Psych Department at Cornell," Alex said. "Or anywhere at Cornell."

Bobby felt a tiny prick of worry. "Well,,,He claimed to be part of a special program…Maybe he's not enrolled this semester…Or he's taking a leave of absence…Or working at Cornell and actually studying at another school."

"I can't find any record of him being employed at Cornell," Alex said. "I'll see if I can get a driver's license for any Mark Caldwells."

"It's not an uncommon name…You'll probably find a lot of Mark Caldwells," Bobby said. "You got a number for the Cornell Psych Department."

"I do," Alex said, and handed a Post-It with the number to Bobby. As he called, she ran the name Mark Caldwell through several databases. "So?" Alex asked when Bobby finished his call.

"Three secretaries at the Cornell Psych Department—all of them very helpful and efficient—know nothing about any Mark Caldwell."

"I've checked some databases, and you're right. I found a lot of Mark Caldwells with drivers' licenses. But none that seem to be the right age in the Ithaca area. And I couldn't find a grad student in the Psych Departments at Hudson, Columbia, or NYU. There're still a lot of other possibilities…"

"He used stationary from the Cornell department to send me the letters," Bobby said thoughtfully. "But he could've copied or stolen that. He knew how to make it look legitimate."

"I don't like this, Bobby," Alex said.

"I'm not crazy about it," Bobby answered. "The reply address I've got is a PO Box in Ithaca. We can call about it. But I hope my official and polite refusal will turn this guy off. At least Cornell knows about him now." Bobby shrugged. "He's probably one of those serial killer groupies. Once he gets my letter, he'll turn to some other poor guy."

"I hope you're right," Alex said.

Mark Caldwell faded from Bobby and Alex's minds in the next two weeks as more immediate problems filled their lives, but he returned one cold and dreary morning when the two detectives dragged their bodies into Major Case after a long night waiting for a perp who never appeared.

"Damn," Bobby muttered as he looked at his computer screen.

Alex looked up from her computer. "What?"

"That Caldwell guy again," Bobby said. "He got my email address."

Alex stood and walked behind Bobby's chair. "Persistent…and a little scary."

"Well, his email is polite enough." Bobby thought for a moment. "But I'm going to show a few of our cards. Let him know that we couldn't find any record of him as a grad student anywhere. Tell him I'm definitely not going to talk to him, and if he keeps after me, there will be consequences."

"Keep his email," Alex advised. "So we can trace it…"

Bobby nodded and hit the "Send" button. "I'll send it and my response to the IT Department."

"Think he'll take the hint?" Alex asked.

"I hope so," Bobby said. "I hate to waste the IT Department's time."

"I think," Alex said carefully as she sat across from Bobby. "You should tell the Captain. Keep him in the loop. If this Caldwell guy is harassing you…Or plans something…We gotta face it, Bobby…You're a lighting rod for trouble, sometimes…Not your fault, but…"

Bobby twirled his pen while he considered Alex's words. "I hate to bother him," he finally said. "But you're right. Better to warn him about nothing than have something bite him in the future."

Alex followed Bobby into Ross' office. The two men had reached a level of détente, but still felt the need to act as a translator and mediator between them. She also wanted to stress that she had a very bad feeling about this Mark Caldwell. As Alex expected, Bobby underplayed and apologized for everything. Ross, much to Alex's relief, took matters seriously.

"I don't like it," the captain said. "Make sure the IT Department follows up on the email. Be sure to contact the people in Ithaca."

"Captain," Bobby said evenly. "This guy really hasn't done anything. It's possible he's just a really persistent grad student."

"I know," Ross said. "But his story doesn't ad up…I'm with Alex…I've got a bad feeling about this."

As soon as they left Ross' office, Alex contacted one of the post offices in Ithaca. "That's odd," the official told her. "That box was closed just yesterday…The guy didn't leave a forwarding address…When he got the box he left the Cornell Psych Department for contact information…Said he had just arrived and didn't have an apartment yet."

"He's certainly acting like someone with something to hide," Bobby said when Alex reported the conversation to him. "I'll bet that email will be from some multiuser computer and we'll have no way of tracking him."

"Sounds like a sucker bet to me," Alex said.

Bobby smiled weakly.

"Goren! Call on line two!" another detective called.

"Goren…Mr. Caldwell…" Bobby looked up at Alex.

Alex sprang to her feet and spoke quickly to the nearest detective, who began the process of getting the call traced.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Caldwell," Bobby said in his politest voice. "I really can't help you. I had nothing to do with the Sebastian case. I probably know less about it than you do, since you've been studying it.."

Alex saw Bobby's hand tighten around the receiver.

"I'm not in contact with Dr. Gage, Mr. Caldwell. No…I'm sorry…We never discussed the particulars of the Sebastian case. It occurred a long time after I stopped working with Dr. Gage."

Ross emerged from his office. "Caldwell's on the phone," Alex mouthed to him.

Ross gave her a worried look and moved to help wit the tracing.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Caldwell," Bobby said, continuing to use the same amiable tone. "That I don't understand how I can assist you…Yes…Yes…We did check up on you…But you understand, I'm sure…The Department needs to be careful…"

Bobby's voice betrayed none of his agitation, but Alex saw how tightly he held the phone and how he jabbed his pen into his notebook.

"Mr. Caldwell," Bobby continued. "We didn't mean to cast any aspersions on your character. What kind of a detective would I be if I didn't check on your story? I'm sorry, but I couldn't find any record of your being a student anywhere. If you could just give me some more information…"

Bobby frowned. "Mr. Caldwell…Please…There's no need…Mr. Caldwell…" Bobby stared at the phone. "He hung up…Did we…"

"We've got something," one of the detectives said.

"It probably won't help," Bobby said as he hung up his phone. "Probably a no name cell or a pay phone."

"You kept him on the line for a long time," Ross said. "Good work."

Bobby rested his head on his hand. "He…He got angry so fast…He was perfectly calm…I was starting to believe maybe he was a researcher…and then he got so angry…He said we…We'd regret what we did…That the Department would regret not letting me talk to him…That I'd regret it…"

"We can hope he's showing off," Alex said, but she didn't believe her words any more than Ross or Bobby did.

"We have him on tape making a threat against a police officer," Ross said. "If we can find him, we can charge him with that."

Bobby was right—"Just once," Alex said. "I wish you were wrong about these things."—the call came from a no name cell and was made somewhere in Central Park. Caldwell's threat hung over Bobby and Alex as they tried to follow up on what little they knew about him. Bobby's spirits weren't helped by the reports of Jo and Declan Gage's increasingly poorer health, or by the stories of a persistent young man who identified himself as a student and wanted access to Declan Gage told by Dec's lawyer. Like Bobby, Dec's defense team was plagued by reporters, doctors, writers, and other lawyers, and it was difficult to tell if this young man was a slightly more aggressive example of one of these or Mark Caldwell.

Two more weeks passed with no further contact with Mark Caldwell, and his memory faded with Alex and Bobby's heavy case load. Bobby missed several Saturday mornings with Jo Gage partly because of his work, partly because he spent one with Alex and her nephew Nate.

It was a good day, cold but sunny, with a promise that spring was more than just a hope. A last minute plea bargain saved Alex and Bobby from testifying, and they enjoyed a long, leisurely brunch while that bargain was made. As they entered Major Case in the late morning they engaged in a friendly argument over the prospects for New York City's baseball teams. Bobby hung up his coat, turned, and looked at a Fed Ex box on his desk.

"I wasn't expecting anything," he said.

"Don't look at me," Alex said. "It cleared security…"

Bobby pulled out his knife and carefully cut open the box. He lifted several pieces of plastic and packing paper and jerked as he saw the box's contents. Alex choked back a cry and involuntarily stepped back.

They stared at the photo of a naked young blonde woman. Her eyes were wild with terror above the duct tape that covered her mouth. Her handcuffed wrists were slipped over a hook, and she hung helplessly. Her body was covered in bloody slashes. Printed in precise letters across the bottom of the photo were the words, "You should have talked to me."

END CHAPTER TWO


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Standard

Warning—Getting very dark

My knowledge of Cornell University and Ithaca, New York comes from brief views of Wikipedia articles. My apologies for anything I got wrong.

Chapter Three

Bobby recovered quickly from his initial shock. "I need a CSU team right away," he said calmly. "Eames…"

Alex recovered immediately after Bobby. "I'll get Ross."

There were many other photos in the package, many with far more horrifying images of the young woman being brutalized and tortured by a young white man who kept his face hidden. The last of the photos showed the young woman's body lying on a pile of stones.

Alex looked closely at the last picture. "I…I recognize that place…It…It's where Jo Gage dumped…"

Bobby placed his hand on her arms and gently squeezed. He did it quickly and subtly so that no one noticed. "Do…Do you smell it?" He waved his hand over the box and its contents.

"That scent…" Alex said.

"Sebastian," Bobby said.

Ross sniffed the air. "You're both sure…Of course, you're sure," Ross said. "Go check to see if the body is where you think it is. We'll work on trying to trace the victim and the package. I guess we all think Mr. Mark Caldwell is the man who wants our attention?"

Bobby and Alex nodded.

"We'll work on seeing if we can find him," Ross said. "Detectives…"

Alex and Bobby turned back to their Captain.

"Are you both all right? I trust your skills…There's no other team I'd want…but…"

"I'm good, Captain," Alex declared.

Bobby nodded.

"This is not your fault, Goren," Ross said.

"Yes, Sir," Bobby said, but his response failed to convince Alex and Ross that Bobby believed this.

"The Captain's right, you know," Alex said after several long silent minutes in the SUV.

"I know," Bobby said flatly. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm not happy about this," Alex said. "But I'm more than functioning, and I want to catch this creep." She glanced at Bobby. "You'll let me know if you think I'm in trouble."

Bobby looked at her. "Yes…and you'll do the same for me."

They saw the police cars and their lights as they neared the scene.

"Looks like we were right," Bobby said.

"Sometime, I hate being right," Alex said.

She parked the SUV. As they unbuckled their seatbelts, Bobby gently touched her arm Alex felt the warmth of his touch through his glove and her coat, and it strengthened her. They walked to the grim scene where the young woman's body lay in the same place and position of Jo Gage's victim. Alex involuntarily took a deep breath and felt Bobby's hand brush her back.

"She's posed exactly like Sebastian's victims," Bobby said softly. He knelt by the body, leaned forward, and sniffed the young woman's hair. He looked up sadly at Alex.

"Sebastian's returned? Or another copycat?" Alex asked.

"It's been nearly a decade since Sebastian's last confirmed killing," Bobby said. He blotted out the chaos of the CSU techs and cops around him. He examined the body and the ground around it. "After all that time…" He spoke softly, almost as if he thought out loud. "It's unlikely it's Sebastian…It could be…But more likely a copycat…" Bobby cocked his head and studied the body. "Or a protégé…or student…"

"Great…A student of a master serial killer," Alex muttered. "Why do you think it might be a follower?" She squatted next to Bobby.

"It…It's the way the body was positioned…There're signs it was moved and…That it was repositioned…And…here…" Bobby pointed at some of the rocks and stones. "Those were set up…Like…Like a stand…And this…" He gestured at several torn notebook pages. "These look like instructions…"

"Get those," Alex said to a CSU tech.

"The killer…May have been following instructions carefully…But then to leave bits of them…" Bobby stood. "But the killer…knows details about Sebastian's crimes…Details that weren't released to the public."

"He'd have to know Sebastian…Or someone who worked on the case…" Alex said.

Bobby nodded.

Ross met them when they returned to Major Case to wait for the CSU and autopsy results. "We may have an ID on the victim," he said. "Marian Brewster. She actually is a student in the Psychology Masters Program at Cornell. She disappeared about a week ago driving back to Ithaca from her parents' home on Long Island."

"Did she work in the Psych Department's office?" Bobby asked as he hung up his coat. "A long shot," he shrugged as Ross and Alex gave him curious looks.

"Well, it's a good one," Ross said. "She worked part time there."

"She'd have access to the Department's stationary…If she knew the killer…If he was this Mark Caldwell…" Bobby again spoke his thoughts.

"A lot of "ifs"," Alex said.

Bobby immediately acknowledged her. "Yea…"

"We're already in touch with Cornell," Ross said. "And with the Brewster family. And we've contacted the FBI…"

Bobby looked apologetically at Ross and Alex. "The FBI won't be happy about this…Especially after they learn about my connections with Gage…"

"I'm dealing with the Bureau," Ross said. "I have a couple of friends in the New York Office…"

Alex spent the rest of the day dealing with the IT department in attempting to track Mark Caldwell's electronic trail. Bobby tracked down as many details as he could about the Sebastian case. Late in the afternoon, the M.E.'s office called, and Bobby and Alex headed to the morgue.

"The tech guys are making Caldwell highest priority," Alex reported. "They're making optimistic sounds about tracing him."

Bobby smiled wanly. "The Tech Guys never want to admit the possibility of defeat…" He leaned back against the elevator wall.

"Ross is right, you know," Alex said gently. "You're not responsible for this girl's death."

Bobby concentrated on the elevator's flashing numbers. "I know…But…"

The doors opened, and Alex and Bobby stepped out.

"He escalated so quickly…I…I didn't expect anything like this from him…I think he must be working with…Motivated by…Someone else…"

Alex entered the autopsy room first. As he had since his explosion of several months earlier, Bobby scuttled in the room behind Alex as if he were apologizing for his existence.

"Thank you for getting this done so quickly," Alex said.

M.E. Rodgers shrugged. "Not a problem. I understand we might have a copy cat serial killer…Anything I can do to help…"

She pulled the sheet back from the body. There were so many slashes and cuts on it that it was difficult to make out the autopsy's surgical cuts.

"We ran the dental records and checked out a student ID. It's definitely Marian Brewster. Lots of damage to her body…Lots of things done to hurt her…The immediate cause of death was blood loss…Not from any one cut or blow, but from a combination of several and the internal bleeding from the beatings…"

Bobby moved carefully closer to the body. "These incisions…" He pointed to several particularly deep cuts. "They look surgical…"

"They are," Rodgers said. "Her spleen was removed…And her appendix…and a kidney…all while she was still alive…"

Alex shivered involuntarily, and Bobby's fist flew to his mouth.

"She might not have felt it," Rodgers said. "I found codeine, oxycontin, morphine, heroin, and some amphetamines in her system."

"She was tortured…and given painkillers?" Alex said. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It does if the purpose was to keep her alive as long as possible," Bobby said grimly. "To torture her…Give her the drugs…Then torture her again…"

"Poor kid," Alex said.

"She was also sexually assaulted," Rodgers said wearily. "Every way possible. And by objects. She was severely restrained by ropes and handcuffs. The truth is, she was tortured to death."

"Thank you," Bobby said after a long moment. "If you could get us the report…"

"As soon as I can," Rodgers said. "And, Detectives…"

Alex and Bobby stopped at the door.

"Please…Get this guy…" Rodgers' voice shook.

"Takes a lot to spook Rodgers," Alex said as they rode in the elevator. "Truth is, I'm spooked."

"Truth is, I am too," Bobby said. He shook his head. "It's like Sebastian…And it isn't…"

The elevator doors opened, and they walked into Major Case.

"Sebastian didn't remove any organs," Bobby said. "He sexually abused his victims, but not with objects."

"Maybe the student is trying to out do the teacher," Alex said as they reached their desks.

Ross approached them. "Rodgers gave me a quick recap of the autopsy. I'd like to speak with both of you in my office."

Bobby and Alex gave each other an uneasy look as they followed the Captain.

"You're not in trouble," Ross said as he shut his office door. "You're my two best detectives…Like I said, I wouldn't want any others leading this case…But…"

"Raise your hand if you didn't expect that "But"," Alex said.

Ross smiled sadly. "You don't have to stay on this case. Either one of you. I know it cuts close."

"Do you think we can't handle it?" Bobby asked calmly.

"I didn't say or suggest that," Ross replied with equal calm. "But you've both been through a lot. I don't want you to go through any more than you have to."

Alex sat quietly, but thoughts raced through her mind. Part of her rebelled against the idea there was anything she couldn't deal with. And another part wanted to run from the pain she saw looming for Bobby and her.

"We're facing a two edged sword," Bobby said. "Our…Our experiences give us some insights. But they also make us vulnerable. And the fact that our suspect seems to regard this as some kind of personal duel…" Bobby shrugged. "The same."

"I'm with my partner," Alex said. "If he wants to drop this…"

"Oh," Bobby said dryly. "It's up to me, is it? I thought you were the senior partner…"

"As if anyone, including us, ever notices that," Alex said.

Bobby turned back to Ross. "You'll let us know if you think we're in trouble?"

"I will," Ross said. "There's too much at stake for me not to."

"All right," Bobby said. He stood. "I want to get this guy…"

"I'd like you both to go to Ithaca right away and talk to the people at Cornell," Ross said. "They're expecting you tomorrow. And I expect you'll want to speak to the Brewsters."

Bobby and Alex couldn't keep from wincing.

"I know," Ross said gently. "They seem to be good people. I called them when we definitely know it was their daughter."

"I don't envy you that," Bobby said softly.

"There's a flight this evening from LaGuardia to Ithaca. The locals know you're coming," Ross said. "You can talk to the people there tomorrow and perhaps the Brewsters tomorrow evening."

Bobby deferred to Alex, who shrugged. "I can not sleep on a plane as well as I can not sleep in the crib or in my bed."

"We've both learned to keep at least a change of clothes and a toothbrush here," Bobby said. "So I think we're ready to go."

"Listen…" Ross leaned forward in his chair. "No one expects you to solve this in a few hours…or days…You've got a solid suspect and leads…Don't add to the pressure…"

Several minutes later, Alex and Bobby were in the back of a cab headed to LaGuardia.

"I hate LaGuardia," Bobby muttered. "It's one of the outer circles of hell. And it's late in the day, so all the flights will be late."

"Yea," Alex said wearily. "We'll probably spend more time in the airport than in the air. I suppose it's better than driving to Ithaca."

"Several hours jammed in a car versus a couple in a plane…Not much of a choice," Bobby said.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and no one will want to fly to Ithaca tonight," Alex said. "And the plane won't be packed."

They broke even. Their flight was an hour late taking off, but only about half full.

"I guess no one wants to go to Ithaca," Alex said.

"They don't in the middle of the week in the middle of winter," the attendant said cheerfully. "So you can spread out after we take off."

Neither Alex nor Bobby was a good flyer. Alex hated to give up control—she was the driver in their partnership—and Bobby hated to be confined in anything. Neither could sleep well on a plane unless they were heavily medicated. The short flight ruled out both pills and alcohol, so they spread out the case files on the empty seat between them and tried to work.

"I…I may have to speak to Dec," Bobby said as he examined a photo.

Alex stared at him. "Bobby…You can't…And you said…His mind is going…What could he do?"

"He…He has moments of clarity…He knows Sebastian better than anyone, even if he made mistakes…"

"He blew the case," Alex said angrily. She calmed at Bobby's hurt expression. "Maybe we'll get luck and someone at the FBI will…"

"It's just," Bobby said. "The Sebastian case didn't just ruin Dec. It ruined anyone who had anything to do with the case. The Bureau reassigned the agents working on it. I'm not sure if anyone who knows about the case is still around."

"They threw the baby out with the bathwater," Alex commented.

"Yea," Bobby said. "I…I was out of Dec's circle…Had been for a long time…When it happened. But I know my association with Dec blighted my reputation at the Bureau for a long time…Maybe still…"

"Great…" Alex muttered. "Politics…"

"We're getting ready to land," Bobby said. He gathered up the files and photos. "I hope we can get to the hotel quickly. You hungry?"

"Yea…But I can't tell if I'm more tired or hungry." Alex yawned. "I hope someone is waiting for us at the airport. I hate getting around new places when I'm tired."

Bobby stood and pulled their bags from the overhead compartment. "Well, at least we won't have to wait for our baggage."

As they entered the terminal, Bobby and Alex saw two young women, one wearing a police uniform, waiting for them. The civilian, a red-eyed twenty-something, identified herself as a Psychology Department secretary and a friend of Marian Brewster.

"You…You're sure it's her?" she asked as the policewoman looked on.

"Yes," Alex said.

"She…She was a good person…She was very kind…She hoped she could work with emotionally troubled kids…Foster kids…"

"Did she have a boyfriend?" Bobby asked.

"Well, there was this guy who really wanted to be her boyfriend…He hung around a lot…Marian worked part time in the office…And this guy would come by…He didn't seem scary or anything…He was nice. Marian said he getting ready to apply for grad school."

"Do you know his name?" Bobby asked, trying not to show his excitement.

"Mark…Collins…Caldwell…That's it…Caldwell…" The young woman looked shocked. "You…You don't think…"

"It's still very early in our investigation," Alex said. "That's why we need to talk to everyone we can who knew Marian."

The young secretary provided Alex and Bobby with names and directions to the Psychology Department. The young policewoman drove them to the Cornell Student Union, where two rooms waited for them.

"We thought you'd want to stay here so you could get right to work tomorrow," the officer said. "And the Ithaca and University police can meet with you here." She frowned. "I'm afraid this case doesn't show anyone at their best…Her family didn't report her missing for several days…He roommates thought she was taking a few days off…There was some fumbling among us and the city and the state once she was reported missing…"

"Yea, we know about that sort of thing," Alex said.

"We finally got our acts together…I do have copies of all of our files for you…"

"Thank you," Bobby said. "Is there some place where we could get a bite to eat?"

"I wouldn't chance the food at the Union or that there'll be room service this late," the cop said. "But I know a good sandwich place on our way."

The young cop dropped them at the Union, and Alex and Bobby checked into their rooms. Alex's hunger won out over her exhaustion, and she ravenously attacked her sandwich.

"Hey," she said when she realized after a few moments that Bobby wasn't eating. "You need to eat. You barely had anything today."

Bobby roused from a study of the new files. "Uh…Yea…" He stared at his sandwich. "I'm like you, Eames…I don't know if I'm too tired to eat or too hungry to sleep…

"That probably means you're too tired and hungry to work," Alex said. She smiled. "My youngest brother…You could feed him when he was asleep…Really," she said in response to Bobby's skeptical look. "Just drop food in his mouth and he'd chew."

"He didn't choke?" Bobby reached for his sandwich.

"Nope…Never…" Alex laughed. "My Mom said his metabolism was so high that he had to eat while he was asleep or he'd starve." She yawned and stretched. "Listen…I'm getting a shower…"

"I guess this is your room, then," Bobby said. "Do you want me to go?"

"No…Stay…Eat… And try not to think about the case." She pulled several things from her bag and headed into the bathroom.

Bobby rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. "If I could only stop thinking about the case," he thought. He finished his sandwich before Alex emerged in a cloud of steam from the bathroom. She was dressed in a huge T-shirt and flannel pajama pants covered in dogs. Bobby couldn't repress a smile.

"Do not laugh at my dogs," Alex warned him. "Good…" She flopped on the bed. "You ate."

"Yea," Bobby said. "But I'm afraid I did think about the case."

"I expected that." Alex pushed the pillows behind her. "What do the reports say about Marian's disappearance?"

"I'm not sure it would have made any difference, but the officer was right. There were glitches in communication…Nothing anyone did deliberately or anyone not doing their jobs…I wonder…" Bobby stared at the files. "If Caldwell…or whoever did this…knew something about police and their communication problems…" Bobby turned to Alex.

She lay back against the pillows with her eyes shut and mouth slightly open. Bobby felt a stab of guilt. He gathered the files as quietly as he could. He moved to the bed and lifted Alex's legs as carefully and gently as he could so that he could pull the covers over her. She stirred slightly as his hands brushed against her legs, but remained deeply asleep. He tenderly lifted the covers up and around her. He set the alarm and turned off all of the lights except for the lamp sitting on the table. He sat in the large, overstuffed chair across from the bed.

"Just a moment," he thought. "Just to make sure she's asleep and ok…"

As he watched her, his breathes joined hers, his eyes drooped shut, and he fell asleep.

END CHAPTER THREE


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

He woke with a start and stared around him. For several seconds his heart pounded and he breathed heavily and rapidly until he remembered where he was.

"Ok…Ok," he thought. "You're all right…You're not back in Tate…You're in a hotel room in Ithaca, New York…Oh…God…I'm in Alex's hotel room…"

Bobby heard a small, strangled cry.

"Alex," he thought and staggered to his feet. His body protested as he stumbled to her bed. He leaned over, hesitated, and carefully placed his hand on her head. He barely brushed her silky hair, but she immediately calmed beneath his touch. Bobby watched as the distress left her face.

"She trusts me," he thought in wonder. "After everything…After all she knows about me…After all I've done to her…She trusts me…"

He tenderly pulled the covers back over her. He allowed his hand to linger on her hair for a moment. He slipped out of her room, made certain her door locked behind him, and went to his own room to try to grab a few hours of sleep.

She fought through the familiar dream, one that usually ended with her at the mercy of Jo Gage, or, worse, with Bobby at the mercy of one of the Gages or Mark Ford Brady. Before the dream could completely seize her, she felt a warm, gentle touch, and the dream cowered from it. She turned into the touch, and its warmth spread through her. She was dimly aware of the covers being pulled over her before she fell into a deep sleep.

Alex knew nothing else until her room's phone rang. She stretched, yawned, and picked up the phone.

"Hey," Bobby's soft voice said. "I'm sorry to wake you up…"

Alex blinked at the bedside clock. "That's ok…I need to get up if we're going to make our meeting with the locals."

"I'll meet you in the lobby…They have free coffee down here…And it's not bad…"

"Bobby…You're already up and dressed? Did you get any sleep last night? You didn't stay up all night looking at the files…"

"Not all night," Bobby answered. "Actually, I fell asleep right after you did…I woke up in the middle of the night and headed to my own room."

"Oh…" Alex smiled. "So you were the one who tucked me in last night."

"Uh…Yea…I'm sorry, Eames…You fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you up…"

"Bobby," Alex said patiently. "You don't have to apologize for letting me sleep. I appreciate it. I'll see you downstairs as soon as I get my shower…"

"Ok…"

As she walked out of the elevator, Alex searched for Bobby. She found him huddled in a large winged back chair in a corner. His binder lay open on the low table in front of the chair, and he was in a deep study of his notes.

"Hey," she said.

Bobby blinked and looked up at her. He appeared to have gotten some sleep, but dark circles were under his eyes. He'd shaved and wore one of his best suits. He'd make a good impression on the cops they were about to meet.

"Hey, yourself," he said. "You need some breakfast. There's a cafeteria in here some place and a bakery around the corner. We've got about a half hour until the locals are supposed to come."

"I'll grab us some bagels or something if you'll call in to Major Case," Alex said.

Bobby picked up his cell. "Yea…Somebody should be in by now…Maybe someone has solved the case…"

After fighting through a crowd of hungry students, Alex returned to find a frowning Bobby scribbling on his pad. He looked up when she placed his bagel in front of him.

"Just the way you like it…Lightly toasted…Peanut butter and cream cheese…" She sat across from him. "So…What's wrong?"

Bobby sighed. "Mark Caldwell…or at least a guy with a variation of that name…Picked up several parking tickets from the Ithaca and Cornell police in recent months…Nothing major…But we did get a license number and a photo…"

"Does he have a record?" Alex bit into her bagel.

"Just starting to check on that…Unfortunately, it's not an uncommon name…"

"Maybe," Alex said. "But I think it's too much of a coincidence that the guy who contacted you and the guy who seems to have stalked Marian Brewster have the same name."

"Yea," Bobby said. "Who am I to be so lucky?"

Before Alex could respond, representatives of the Ithaca and Cornell Police Departments appeared.

By the late afternoon, Alex and Bobby were on a return flight to New York City. The day was long but productive. They knew what Mark Caldwell looked like; they knew, thanks to several members of the Cornell Psychology Department's staff, that Mark Caldwell was the man who had pursued Marian Brewster; and that no one thought him capable of any violence, let along the sort of attack like the one on Marian Brewster. Local cops attempted to locate Caldwell at his most recent job and address, but he'd left both several weeks ago.

"Quiet, polite, can't imagine he'd do anything like this," Alex commented as she scanned several interviews. "All he needs is a middle name…"

"He has one…Gregory…" Bobby said. He shifted unhappily in his seat. The return flight was considerably more populated than the one to Ithaca, and Bobby and Alex were jammed into two seats. Alex was uncomfortable; she could only imagine how Bobby felt.

"What worries me," Bobby continued. "Is that Caldwell isn't covering his tracks. He may think he's so smart that he doesn't have to. He may want us to know who he is, and now he'll hide. Or…he may want to be caught…Of those, I think we want to hope for the first or third."

"You think Marian Brewster was the first victim?"

"I…I don't know…In some ways, it seems like a first…But in others…He seems experienced…But if he's a copycat…I certainly hope she was the first…"

"Ross wants us to talk with Marian's family when we get back," Alex said cautiously. "If we have time and feel like we can face them."

"I'd like to get it over with," Bobby said. "Time is against us…"

"You think he'll do it again…"

"Yea…"

Ross caught them when they stopped briefly at Major Case. "Nothing from the FBI," he reported. "No one seems to be around who dealt with Sebastian…Or at least anyone who wants to talk about it."

Bobby winced. "It was…a major failure for the Bureau. I'm not surprised no one there wants to talk about it."

"The impression I got," Ross said. "Was that the Bureau thinks Sebastian died or is in prison."

"I'll believe that when I see his mug shot or body," Bobby said. "Although no one knew what he looked like."

"You're convinced this Mark Caldwell is your guy? And he's a copycat?" Ross was remarkably matter of fact.

"I think it's a strong possibility," Bobby answered. "If he killed Marian Brewster…which seems likely…Her killing certainly has several trademarks of Sebastian's work…What we know about Caldwell says he's too young to be Sebastian…But he could've learned about the case…"

Ross studied Alex and Bobby for a moment. "You're both doing excellent work on this case, Detectives…But…Remember…If this gets too close…Let me know…"

Alex and Bobby both started to protest, and Ross held up his hands. "I'm not saying you can't deal with it…Like I said…There's no one else I'd want working this…But I don't want it to cost either of you too much…"

Bobby nodded.

"Yes, Sir," Alex said.

"All right," Ross said. "You're going to speak with the Brewsters?"

"Yes, Captain," Alex answered.

"I spoke to them briefly on the phone today," Ross said. "They seem to be good people. They're expecting you…I think they'd appreciate you coming as soon as possible."

"We…We'll be careful with them," Bobby said softly.

"Eames." Another detective approached them. "There's a fax coming in for you."

"Got it," Alex said.

As soon as Alex was out of hearing, Ross turned to Bobby. "How's she doing?"

"Well…She said she slept well last night…And she's doing well working on the case…She…she admitted to me that this case…It brings back memories…But she seems to be handling it…" Bobby shrugged. "But I'm not exactly an unbiased observer."

Ross half-smiled at Bobby's last words. "I may not be entirely objective either. I want to keep you both on this case. But not at too high of a cost…"

Alex, a fax in her hand, returned. "It's from the Cornell police. They confirmed what our IT department found….The emails Mark Caldwell sent Bobby came from a computer in Cornell's main library." She handed the fax to Bobby, who glanced at it.

"I…I need to talk to IT," he said. "Then we can go to the Brewsters."

Ross guided Alex away from Bobby's desk. "Goren says you're doing ok…"

Alex felt slightly irritated, but she recognized Ross' concern. "As well as can be expected, Sir."

"And your partner?"

"He's…He feel s responsible because he didn't respond to Caldwell…But I think he knows that he couldn't have predicted what happened. His work is like it always is…Great…Of course…" She smiled sadly. "I want him to be ok."

Ross nodded. "Good…Good…I want him on this case, Eames. I want both of you. You're the best. And your connections to this case…Well…They're a blessing…"

"I know," Alex said. "And a curse."

Bobby approached them. "Zach at IT is going to try to track down any other computers Caldwell used in the Ithaca area. It's a long shot, and he's probably not in the area, but it's worth a try."

Alex reached for her coat. "We need to get to the Brewsters. Long way to Long Island, especially with the traffic."

"Yea," Bobby said as he picked up his own coat.

"Good luck," Ross said gently.

The drive out to Long Island was long and quiet.

"You have a rare gift for silence, Alex Eames," Bobby finally said.

Alex smiled. "More like I have to concentrate on the road." She took a breath. "Ross is concerned about you…Not in a bad way…Not that he's scared you're going to do something…More like this case is going to hurt you."

Bobby stared out the side window. "He's worried about you, too…In the same way…I told him I thought you were ok."

"I told him the same thing about you," Alex said.

"You…You'll let me know if I'm not ok? 'Cause it's too important…For the case…For Ross…For you…If I screw up."

Alex gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Yea…If you promise to do the same for me…"

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Bobby said. "But I'm here…for what it's worth."

"It's worth a lot," Alex said quickly. She turned the SUV down a quiet, older residential street. "I think we're going to need each other for this."

Ross was right. The Brewsters were good people. Photos, trophies, medals, and pieces of artwork celebrating and by their children filled their home. Marian, their second child and oldest daughter, appeared in many of the photos, where Alex and Bobby saw her grow from a happy, pretty, little girl to a happy, pretty, young woman. She played sports well enough to receive several awards; she was a good student, good enough to gain several academic awards; and she was a good person, good enough to be in the center of several photos showing her with children at various camps and clinics. Mr. and Mrs. Brewster sat baffled and shocked on the couch in their living room. Their other three children, all blondes like Marian, hovered around them.

As he and Alex sat across from the older Brewsters and politely refused offers of food and drink, Bobby felt the usual combination of puzzlement and envy that accompanied him when he entered happy homes. The murder of this family's daughter had frozen the atmosphere as if a blizzard swept through the house. The Brewsters were heartbreakingly kind. They patiently answered Alex and Bobby's questions, many of which they had already answered a thousand times. All of them looked at the photos of Mark Caldwell, but none recognized him. None of the Brewsters had heard Marian mention his name. Marian had boyfriends, but none was serious and none of the breakups bad.

"Marian is…was…so excited about being accepted into the Master's program," Mrs. Brewster said. "She wanted to work with emotionally disturbed children…Especially those in foster care…She volunteered with a group that tutored kids in foster care…She told us she wanted to help those kids…" She looked up at Alex and Bobby with red-rimmed eyes that brimmed with tears. "Who would do this to my baby? To anyone's baby?"

"I…I don't know, Ma'am," Bobby said, who at that moment hated himself for not being able to answer this unanswerable question.

"You…You think this Caldwell did this to her?" Mr. Brewster asked.

"We're not sure," Alex answered. "But there are some things that connect him to your daughter. We certainly want to talk to him."

"I'm sorry," Bobby said gently. "I promise you…We will do everything we can to find out who did this…I promise you…" He gave his card to Mrs. Brewster. "We will let you know what's going on…And if you want to know anything…Call us…Please…"

He sat heavily in the passenger seat as they prepared to leave.

"It's not your fault," Alex said as she pulled away from the Brewster home.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "He targeted me…Why? If I'd answered him…Marian…"

"Don't think like that," Alex said sharply. "You keep thinking like that, and I'll tell Ross and he'll take you off the case…"

"Maybe…." Bobby muttered.

The shrill ring of his cell phone surprised both of them.

"Yes…When…"

Alex heard a terrible sadness in Bobby's voice.

"No…You did the right thing…No…I don't know anyone…I'd call her lawyer…"

"Who?" Alex thought.

"Yes…Yes…Thank you…Thank you for calling me…I appreciate it…Yes…I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know what's happening…"

He closed his cell phone and slunk back in the seat.

"Bobby…"

"That…That was Jo's doctor…One of them…She died about an hour ago…"

END CHAPTER FOUR


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Alex feared that Jo Gage's death might send Bobby into a dark spiral and entangle him again with Declan Gage. But a relative from the disturbed woman's mother's family emerged to claim the body and deal with the arrangements. The relative made it clear that this side of the family held Declan Gage and anyone associated with him responsible for what had happened to Jo, and that those associates were not welcome to assist or appear at any services. For his part, Bobby was relieved, relieved that Jo was finally dead and free of her half life existence and that he didn't have to deal with anything relating to her death. Ross urged him to take some time, but Bobby gently refused.

"I'll do it if you order me, Captain," he told Ross. "But it's not like I'll get any real rest. My head would be here."

"All right, Detective," Ross said. "But take it as easy as you can."

Bobby was shaken and weary. Part of his state resulted from Jo Gage's death, but a greater factor was the inability of the NYPD, the New York State Police, and the FBI to track down Mark Caldwell. After prodding, the FBI managed to find an agent who'd been involved with the Sebastian case who agreed to meet with Alex and Bobby. George Douglass, with his short haircut, highly polished black shoes, and business suit, fit the stereotype of an agent so well that Alex fought her instant dislike of him. Her attitude changed when Douglass handed her and Bobby several files and began to talk frankly with them.

"I was a rookie at the time," Douglass said. "The Bureau first caught the case when one of Sebastian's victims had clearly been taken across state lines…And I was lucky…or unlucky…enough to be assigned to the nearest field office. Once it became clear this victim was one of Sebastian's, I was bumped to the outer ring of investigators. I wasn't part of a lot of the day to day operations of the investigation. Which was good for me."

Bobby nodded. "It didn't go down as one of the Bureau's successes…"

"That's an understatement," Douglass said. "I understand Declan Gage was your mentor…"

Alex's heart began to pound.

"Yes," Bobby said. "But I hadn't been in contact with him for a couple of years when he began working on the Sebastian case."

"I bet I can bet why," Douglass said. "I bet you wanted to live your own life."

"There were other…issues…incidents," Bobby said calmly. "But, yes, that's what it came down to."

"Gage arrived to consult on the case," Douglass said. "Surrounded by…his acolytes…"

"Sycophants…Worshippers," Bobby muttered.

"Yes," Douglass said for a moment, and he and Bobby shared an understanding look.

"He was clearly a brilliant man," Douglass continued. "He saw what killings were connected…He developed a profile of Sebastian…He provoked Sebastian into contacting the Bureau, and giving us a name. But Gage turned the case into a personal contest…"

"And anyone dealing with a serial killer will tell you that engaging in a personal contest is a bad idea," Bobby said.

A shiver ran up Alex's spine as she remembered that Bobby knew this all too well.

"You really think you've got a Sebastian copy cat?" Douglass asked.

"It looks like it," Bobby said. "Unless Sebastian's returned and changed his m.o. slightly."

Douglass frowned. "He'd be old now."

"Almost as old as Gage," Alex thought out loud.

"Possibly," Douglass said.

"There several things that marked this killing as like Sebastian's," Bobby said. He handed the files on Marian Brewster's killing to Douglass, who winced at the photos of the young woman's body.

"Yea," Douglass sighed. "Brings back memories." He looked at Bobby and Alex. "The perfume…"

"The body was drenched in it," Alex said. "As were the photos sent to us."

"It was a little too much," Bobby said. "Sebastian never poured a bottle of the perfume on the body. And there were signs by the body of hesitation…Signs that the killer stopped and studied something…As if he were reading instructions…"

"And I understand this guy…or at least the guy who's your chief suspect…was trying to contact you about the Sebastian case," Douglass said. He pointed at the printing on one of the photos.

Bobby nodded.

"It's not your fault," Douglass said quietly.

"We keep trying to tell him that," Alex said.

"It's really not your fault." Douglass stood and began to pace in the small interview room. "This guy's name Mark Caldwell?"

"Yea," Alex said.

Douglass sighed and sat. "Last year…Soon after Gage was arrested…When everything was in the press…"

"Not everything, thank God," Alex thought and glanced at Bobby.

"This guy contacted me. Claimed he was a writer working on a book…" Douglass continued.

"He told us he was a psychology student," Alex said.

"I managed to escape the wreckage of the Sebastian case," Douglass said. "And I wasn't interested in revisiting it. Careers were ruined with that. Gage's reputation took a horrible hit. And seven victim and their families never got justice." Douglass was angry but controlled. "I got as far away from the case as I could. I'm afraid I pegged this guy for a publicity hound and brushed him off several times."

"Did you keep any of your communications with him?" Alex asked.

"No…I know…I know," Douglass said in response to Alex's disappointed look. "I thought it was nothing. I remember that one of his letters was postmarked Ithaca."

Bobby was eerily quiet during Douglass' revelations. "Has anyone else involved with the investigation been contacted?" he finally asked.

"I don't know," Douglass replied. "I haven't been in contact with any of the others. Some of them retired…Others were sent to the ends of the earth as far as the Bureau was concerned. I was lucky. I managed to get back in the Bureau's good graces in a few years."

"So, the FBI just tried to forget everything? Including the victims and their families?" Alex asked angrily.

Douglass sighted. "Based on what Gage put together, we went after the wrong guy…Which we found out after he committed suicide…Then Sebastian killed another victim and let us know about it…And then…Nothing…Absolutely nothing…There was a skeleton crew that checked to see if any more cases appeared that matched Sebastian's M.O. But there was nothing until Jo Gage appeared. And then this Caldwell." Douglass pointed to several boxes of files. "This is everything that the Bureau has on the case. The only man who might have more information is Declan Gage. And I understand that he's in no condition to talk about the case."

"He isn't," Bobby said quietly.

"You know, Gage kept mentioning your name during the investigation," Douglass said.

Bobby looked at him with surprise. "I…Gage and I…Hadn't spoken to each other for some time…He…He tried to get me to work on the case…But I…I was here…I had my work with the NYPD…and personal commitments here."

"Well, he missed you," Douglass said. "He was always complaining that no one measured up to Robert Goren. You weren't popular with a lot of his followers."

"I…I'm used to not being popular," Bobby said wryly. "But the case…Was there ever any suggestion Sebastian had any help? Do you know of any other similar cases?"

"Not that I know of," Douglass said. "But I'll do what I can to get you contact information for the other agents on the case."

"We also need anything else you can tell us about Mark Caldwell," Alex said. She couldn't get rid of the feeling that she and Bobby were cleaning up a mess the FBI had made.

"I'm sorry," Douglass said as he stood. "There are all of these serial killer groupies…I've had to deal with questions about the Sebastian case from all sorts of idiots and I wasn't really at the center of the investigation."

After Douglass left, Alex didn't try to hide her disdain for the man and the agency he worked for. "He could've prevented Marian Brewster's death," she muttered angrily.

"Eames," Bobby said softly. "We didn't know either. I brushed the guy off too." He stared at the photos on his desk. "Why me?"

"What do you mean?" Alex asked.

"Douglass…He was much closer to the case…I wasn't near it…I was here, working for the Department. Why me?"

Alex leaned forward. "We should talk to the other investigators…"

"I think we've probably talked to the one person who will give us any information," Bobby said.

His words proved sadly true. The FBI provided all that it could about the Sebastian killings—or at least the Bureau said it did—and even offered the services of one of it best profilers to assist the investigation into Marian Brewster's murder. The agent treated Bobby with respect, but in the end his findings only confirmed Bobby's work. The agents involved with the case were, as Douglass said, either retired or dead or far away from police work. Alex and Bobby attempted to track down those still alive, but several refused to speak to them, and those that did suffered from faulty memories. One met with them apparently just to curse Declan Gage; another freely admitted he only wanted to meet the great Robert Goren Gage held up as the example of a great detective.

"I'm sorry about that, Eames," Bobby said after that unhappy encounter.

Alex looked across her desk at Bobby with astonishment. "You weren't a rude jerk," she said. "You have nothing to apologize for."

The search for Mark Caldwell continued. Bobby attempted to contact him via every address and means they had. The IT Department traced his emails to several computers on the Cornell campus, but Bobby noted that "he's probably miles away from Ithaca now." They discovered a great deal about Mark Gregory Caldwell. He was the oldest son of a mother who'd divorced his father soon after Mark's birth. His mother frequently left young Mark in the not so gentle care of his maternal grandmother, who resented his presence since she felt she'd finished her child rearing duties. Mark spent much of his time under the care of a neighbor of his grandmother whose teenaged son was later convicted of molesting several children. The police and several social workers believed that Mark might also have been a victim, but by the time the case came to trial, Mark was in Texas with his mother and new stepfather. The stepfather was determined to make a man out of the quiet and shy boy, and took him hunting and fishing, where Mark learned to use a knife for butchering and cleaning. His stepfather and mother's interest in him effectively ended when a half sister and half brother joined the family. In high school Mark was an indifferent student but avid reader, especially of chronicles of true crime. His biology teacher noted his near obsession with dissection and anatomy. He was no longer the awkward little boy, but an isolated troublemaker. Mark scored high on IQ tests and his SATs, but his school work reflected none of this. He barely graduated high school, but his high test scores allowed him to get into college. He quickly departed two schools after complaining about what idiots the teachers and students were. He briefly joined the Army, but received a general discharge after too many fights with his superiors and too many weeks in the stockade. One of the many Army psychiatrists Mark saw noted his many conflicts with female officers and soldiers. After the Army, Caldwell moved from job to job, from girlfriend to girlfriend. His jobs and relationships started well. His good looks, his charm, and his intelligence attracted many people; the discovery of his arrogance and cruelty repelled them. At least one of his former girlfriends asked for a restraining order against him. He sporadically attended college classes, but never stayed long with any program.

"He fits your profile…and that of a serial killer…very well," Ross said as Bobby and Alex reported on the case.

"Yea," Bobby said. "Except…as far as we can tell…Caldwell has just one killing to his credit…He threatens…But never actually harms anyone…Even the woman who got the restraining order said he didn't touch her, but made verbal threats."

Alex snorted. "This guy's a coward."

"I've never thought it took any courage to be a killer," Ross said.

"Yea," Bobby sighed. "But something set him off…Sparked him…I think it might've happened when he took a psych class that involved work with prisoners…It's one of the few classes he did well in and finished."

"This class didn't involve dangerous cons, did it?" Ross asked with some disbelief.

"Older prisoners," Bobby said. "But some were charged with violent crimes. Hearing some of their stories…Or having one of them take an interest in him…And if one was Sebastian…"

"That's a big jump, Detective," Ross said.

"But it's something," Alex argued.

"I'd feel better if we got a lead to where Caldwell is rather than why," Ross said.

Bobby nodded. "But why might lead us to where."

"A good point," Ross acknowledged. "Keep me informed."

Alex and Bobby returned to their desks just as Bobby's phone rang. "Hello…Yes…This is Detective Goren…Yes, Sir." Alex watched excitement appear in Bobby's eyes. "You did? Yes, Sir…I'd very much like to speak with you…" Bobby flipped open his binder and began scrawling notes. "Yes, Sir…Is there a number? Thank you…I'll call you back to confirm this…Thank you…"

"What's going on?" Alex asked hopefully as Bobby hung up his phone. "You got a lead?"

"Maybe," Bobby said. "That was a psychiatrist who said he talked to Caldwell when he was a kid…He saw a report that the police were looking for him…He thinks he might be able to help us…I've set up a tentative meeting this evening…"

Alex's face fell. "I…I was going to have dinner with my nephew this evening…"

"That's ok," Bobby quickly assured her. "You more than deserve a night off…" He smiled. "Truth is, you probably deserve a couple of weeks."

"Both of us," Alex said. "Who is this guy?"

"Linley…Thomas Linley," Bobby said. He began typing on his computer, and he frowned. "That's odd…I can't find him listed on any of the psychiatric associations…Of course he said he was retired, so maybe…But he also said he knew Dec…And I've never heard of him…"

"Well, playing devil's advocate here," Alex said. "Good and smart as you are, you don't know everything and everyone…"

Bobby smiled. "No…No I don't…Not by a long shot…This Dr. Linley might be the rare forensic psychiatrist who has a small ego and doesn't want publicity…But the world of serial killer specialists is fairly small…And if this guy knows or knew Dec…I just think…" Bobby disappeared inside his head. "Uh…I'll be back in…"

Alex watched him walk away. "I don't like this," she thought. "I do not like this."

END CHAPTER 5


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER Six

Bobby returned several minutes lately. He stood uncertainly by Alex's desk. "Uh…Eames…I need to leave early…It's something I need to do for the case…"

Alex started to stand.

"No…No…I can handle this on my own…And I don't know how long it'll take…"

Alex gave him her look that frequently forced him into confessions. It shook, but didn't break him.

"I plan to get this done and then see Dr. Linley."

"I'm not sure you should see this Linley at all," Alex said. "And certainly not alone."

"I'm meeting him in a bar," Bobby answered. "There'll be lots of other people around. And I promise…I'll call you immediately before and after I talk to him. If you haven't heard from me by nine, you have my permission to call the captain and all the cavalry you want."

Alex regarded him skeptically. "And just what will you be doing until you meet this supposed doctor?"

Bobby shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Please…Eames…You'll have to trust me on this one."

"The last few times you've asked me to trust you," Alex said softly. "It hasn't gone well for you."

Bobby stared at his feet. "I know," he admitted after a moment. "And I'm pretty sure this isn't going to be easy for me. But as long as I don't tell you what I'm doing, I think you'll be ok."

The next few seconds were some of the longest of Alex and Bobby's lives. They would have been surprised to learn their thoughts moved on similar paths. "Trust," they both thought. "We have to…We have to get it back…We have to have it, or the professional and personal partnerships can't work…"

"This pain," Alex asked cautiously. "You'll get over it?"

"Yes," Bobby said.

"You'll call me before and after you've met this guy? You'll let me know where and when you meet him?"

"Yes," Bobby said.

"This thing you're going to do…It'll make me very angry, won't it?"

"Yes," Bobby said. "And I'm prepared for that. But…But I have to do this for the case…And…And…Any other time, I'd want you with me…Truth is, I'd love to have you with me…But I'm afraid you'd be a distraction…To me and the person I'm going to talk to…"

Alex bit her lip. "All right," she finally conceded. "But I don't like this. I trust you, but I don't like this…"

"Ok." Bobby released a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I will talk to you tonight."

Alex watched him walk away. "I do not like this," she thought. "I do not."

Bobby tried not to shiver as he handed his gun to the guard. Ryker's wasn't the most welcoming of places, and its hospital wing was even less inviting than the rest of the prison. Declan Gage's lawyer waited for him on the other side of the gate. The man was a specialist in cases involving mentally ill defendants, and Bobby thought that one of the many ironies surrounding Dec's crimes was that Dec had been a witness against several of his lawyer's past clients.

"Thank you for coming," the lawyer said after Bobby passed through the gate.

Bobby looked at him steadily. "Let's make one thing clear," he said firmly. "I'm not here for him. I'm here for a case. I wouldn't be here for any other reason."

"I understand," the lawyer said after a moment. "And I can't say that I blame you."

Their steps echoed in the prison's hallway.

"How is he?" Bobby asked, his concern undercutting the coldness of his previous words.

"He's having a relatively good day," the lawyer replied. "He's excited about seeing you…Although I don't think he understands why you're here. I've tried to explain to him, but…" The man shrugged. "Mr. Gage doesn't ….or chooses not to…understand some things."

Bobby swallowed. "Does he…Does he know about Jo?"

"Sometimes he remembers…Sometimes he doesn't…" The lawyer sighed. "Sometimes he doesn't remember why he's here…His memory of things in the past is actually good…It seems the farther back you go, the better it is."

They stopped in front of another guard in front of another door. As the guard unlocked the large, metal obstacle, the lawyer said, "I have to warn you about his physical appearance. He doesn't look well, and it's been some time since you've seen him."

The guard glanced at Bobby and the lawyer.

"It's not because of his treatment here," the lawyer said, eying the guard. "I've made sure of that…And the fact he knows a Major Case Squad detective has carried some weight…But he forgets or won't eat…He can't exercise…And he's sick…He's just an old, sick man."

"An old, sick man who engineered or performed the murders of two people," Bobby said softly.

"That was several months ago," the lawyer said.

The guard led them through one door and stopped at another. "I don't know why we bother with all these doors," he said as he unlocked the second door. "No one in there is going to get away without a lot of help."

For several moments, Bobby didn't recognize Dec as one of the occupants in the row of beds. A skeletal figure in the first bed by the right of the door raised itself.

"Bobby," it screeched. "I knew you'd come…I knew it!"

Bobby stood stunned. The bald scarecrow in front of him was a caricature of the Declan Gage he knew. The eyes glowed from the emaciated skull, and its arms were terribly thin sticks.

"Bobby…Bobby…Come closer…Let me take a look at you!" Dec's claw like hand grabbed his glasses from the table beside his bed and put them on. They were grotesquely huge on his face. Bobby shuffled reluctantly closer to the bed.

"You…" Dec waved away the lawyer. "Go away…I want to talk to Bobby alone…"

The lawyer hesitated.

"Go! Go!" Dec flapped his hands.

"It's ok," Bobby said softly to the lawyer and the guard.

The two men walked away.

"Bobby…Bobby…You look tired…You've lost weight…But it's good to see you in a suit again…"

"Dec…Please…" Bobby pulled up a battered folding chair and sat. "I…I need to speak to you about a case…"

"A case! Excellent…You and me, Bobby…Working together again!" Dec rubbed his hands together, and Bobby winced at the sandpaper like sound that resulted. "So…Tell me…Tell me…"

"It…It relates to the Sebastian cases…" Bobby began.

"Sebastian! Our old nemesis! Is he back? After all these years?" The delight in Dec's face horrified Bobby. "How long has it been since we've heard from him?"

"Dec…Please…I need you to focus," Bobby said patiently. "I'm not sure if it's Sebastian or if it has anything to do with him. But I need to know…and quickly…Does the name Linley mean anything to you in connection with the case?"

Dec rubbed his chin. "Yes…Yes it does. But what do you have? A copy cat…Jo hasn't escaped, has she?"

Bobby winced. "No…It may be another, though…"

"Linley…Linley…" Dec's mind jumped several feet. "There was a psychologist or psychiatrist of that name…Tried to get on my team…Or offer advice…There was something about his credentials…"

"What do you remember about him?" Bobby asked. It was exhausting to watch the tics and leaps of Dec's ravaged mind.

"No…No…Bobby…If I saw the scenes…The victim…Get me out of here…I could help you…"

Bobby started to stand. "No…I can't…And I don't think it would be a good idea…"

One of Gage's hands shot out and seized Bobby's arm. Its claws clutched at Bobby through his jacket and suit.

"Bobby…Please…"

Bobby jerked away. The folding chair clattered to the floor. His gaze met Gage's, and the desperate need and insanity in his mentor's eyes horrified Bobby.

"Please, Dec." Bobby controlled himself with a great effort. "You know you can't leave here."

"Stay," Dec pleaded. "Tell me about the case at least…Maybe there's something I can help you…"

"No…Dec…I'm sorry…I have to go," Bobby said.

"I knew this would be a mistake," Bobby thought. "Anything I can't share with Alex…"

"You have to meet your partner?" Dec asked coldly.

Bobby struggled again to control himself. "No…"

"She has you at her beck and call, Bobby," Dec said dismissively. "Just like your mother…"

"Eames," Bobby said. "Is nothing like my mother. For one thing, she's perfectly sane. The sanest person I've every known."

"And you've had so much experience dealing with sane people, haven't you, Bobby?"

It had been a long time since Dec's sarcasm had targeted Bobby, and an even longer time since any of it arrows had drawn blood. This one hit its mark dead on, and Bobby stood silently for several moments.

"I've seen enough insanity to know when someone is sane," he finally said. "And Eames is sane…and good…"

"I wonder why you do that," Dec mused, his brain shifting gears again. "Why do you always call her by her last name? Are you trying to distance yourself from her?"

Bobby turned and began to walk away.

"As much as she cares about you, Bobby…You care about her more…My God…I nearly missed it…They must be right…My skills are deteriorating…"

Bobby stopped and turned.

"You're terrified of loosing her…I always said you could've gone either way…With that mother…"

Bobby flinched.

"And we know what happened to your brother…But…But you found a way to deal with…Even use your demons…But I've seen cops who've turned with far less provocation than you've had…"

"Go," Bobby thought. "Get out of here…"

"And it wasn't me…It wasn't…As much as I would like to have been the person who saved you…It wasn't me…"

"You had a child," Bobby said bitterly. "And if your treatment of her means anything, I'm better off without you as a father figure…"

"Oh, her." Gage casually and cruelly dismissed Jo. "You were the one with potential…But…It's Eames…She's the one…She's the perfect partner for you…No wonder Jo took her…A perfect way to get at me through you…"

"It's not all about you!" Bobby shouted.

The other patients stared at him; the guard rose from his chair. Bobby held up his hands and took a deep breath.

"Eames," Bobby said as calmly as he could. "Doesn't exit for you…Or for me…She is a person…A great person…Her life is not for you or for me…Her life is her own…"

"Of course….Of course," Gage said. "But she's the reason, Bobby. She's why you are what you are…"

Bobby stared at him. "You…You were human once, weren't you, Dec? You cared about people…I remember that…God…What happened?" Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "You're right, of course, you damn genius…Eames…She saved me…God know why…"

"Bobby," Dec said. "You're the one I'm proud of. All the ones I taught…You're the most brilliant one…And the one with the guts to challenge me…I couldn't be prouder of you if you were my son…"

"That might mean something if you hadn't destroyed my life…and if you weren't sitting in the hospital ward at Ryker's." Bobby spun, but discovered he couldn't leave Gage on that discordant note. He turned slowly. "Thank you, Dec," Bobby said. "For the good you did me…Which was a lot…Thank you…Good bye…"

Bobby lurched from Rykers in a fog. He managed to find a cab, but sat for several minutes before the cabbie's impatient sounds brought him back to something resembling reality. He directed the driver to take him to his meeting place with Linley. Bobby sat numbly during the drive and tried to make some sense from the storm of emotions resulting from his encounter with Gage. "I didn't even get any good information from him," Bobby thought.

The cab arrived at the bar, and Bobby stumbled from the car. He paid the driver and tried to ignore the growing uneasy feeling in his stomach. He pulled out his cell phone and called Alex. He wasn't surprised when his call went to her voice mail. He knew she didn't always leave it on when she was with her family. "And," Bobby thought. "I'm not part of her family." As he waited to leave her a message, Bobby noticed a large, white van parked next to a fire hydrant. Something about the van worried him.

He left her a message telling her he was about to meet Linley, and that he had a bad feeling about it. Impulsively, he told her about the van and gave her its license number. "I'll call you later…Uh…Thank you, Eames…Thank you for everything…" He closed and pocketed his phone and walked into the bar.

Alex was away from her purse when she heard her cell ring. She glanced at a clock. "Must be Bobby," she thought. Before she could move to get the phone, her nephew rushed up to show her his latest Lego creation. "If it's work and it's an emergency, they'll call again," Alex thought. "And if it's Bobby, he'll understand…And I'm a little angry at him for not telling me what's going on…" Her nephew and the rest of her family occupied all of her attention for the next few hours, and it wasn't until she was in her car and headed home that Alex listened to Bobby's message.

"He sounds so tired…and so sad," Alex thought. She listened guiltily as Bobby revealed his apprehension about meeting Linley. She was puzzled by his giving her the van's license number, and touched and troubled by his last words. She looked at her car's clock. It read nine seventeen.

"When Bobby says nine, he means nine," Alex thought, and a heavy, uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. She pulled out her phone and called Bobby. His cell ran several times, and went to voice mail.

"Bobby…Alex…Sorry, I didn't answer earlier…I was with Nathan and my family, and you know how that goes…Anyway, it's nine twenty, and you haven't called. Call me. If I haven't heard from you by ten, I'm calling out the troops."

The weight in her stomach grew heavier as she neared her home and no return call came from Bobby. She called his cell again.

"Bobby…Alex again…I'm going by your apartment. If you're there, and just not answering your phone, or if you've lost your cell, I'm going to kill…No, wait, I'm going to make you wish I'd killed you…Seriously…Call me." She hung up, called Bobby's apartment phone, and left a similar message.

By the time she reached Bobby's apartment, the weight in her stomach was so heavy that Alex wondered how she could walk. She knocked for several minutes on Bobby's door until she finally pulled out the key he'd given her in case of an emergency. "This," Alex thought as she opened the door. "Fits my definition of an emergency." There was no sign of Bobby in the apartment; no sign that he'd been in it recently.

"Ok," Alex thought, and she called Bobby's phone at Major Case. The call went directly to voice mail, and she didn't bother leaving a message. She called the main number for Major Case, and the detective who answered told her that Bobby wasn't in the office and he hadn't been there all evening. Alex swallowed, hung up, and dialed Captain Ross' cell phone.

He answered on the second ring. "Eames…What is it?"

"It's Bobby, Captain…He's missing…And I'm worried…No…I'm scared."

END CHAPTER SIX


	7. Chapter 7

This chapter is very, very dark. Possibly "M". A warning.

Chapter Seven

He didn't know if it was the pain or the cold that broke through the fog in his mind first. For one terrible moment he thought he might be back at Tate, but he remembered it wasn't cold in Heaven. It was hot--horribly, horribly hot--there. He tried to move, and received terrible, sharp pains in his wrists and ankles in return for his efforts. He cried out, but the sound was garbled by the tape that covered his mouth.

"I believe, Mark, that our guest is waking up."

He shivered involuntarily as he heard the voice, and he realized that his hands were handcuffed over his head. His body was stretched out on a rough and narrow plank and, with a wave of shame and fear, Bobby realized he was naked.

"Oh, God," Bobby thought. "What happened…I'm going to be sick…Drugs…They musta…" He fought against the bile that rose in his throat.

"He looks rather ill and upset, doesn't he?"

Bobby remembered the voice. It belonged to the man who called himself Dr. Thomas Linley. He met the man in that small bar. Linley was dressed in a cream colored suit and a grey overcoat; he carried a white fedora. He reminded Bobby of Declan Gage before Gage's collapse. Linley spoke with a vaguely Southern accent and carried himself with an aristocratic air. Bobby remembered that his initial unease grew as he increasingly felt that the man was, if not a fraud, not entirely what he said he was. And then…Bobby faintly remembered seeing Mark Caldwell enter the bar accompanied by a pretty young blonde woman who seemed the worse for drink or something. Bobby started to leave his seat, but Linley pressed a sharp needle to the younger man's neck.

"Oh, no, Detective Goren," Linley hissed. "You have a choice…Let us take you, or let us take that young woman. Now, you might be able to overpower me before I give you this drug or before it takes hold of you. But by that time Mark will have that young woman far away from you. And even if you have me, you won't have him. And I don't think you will find him before he begins his work with her. And I'd bet you and the police won't find him before he finishes his work."

Visions of Marian Brewster's battered body flooded Bobby's mind. He knew what Caldwell would do to this woman. He knew what Sebastian did to his victims. He knew what would happen to him if he let Linley and Caldwell take him. Bobby sat down.

"A wise decision, Detective," Linley said. "And, I must say, the one I expected of you."

Bobby felt a sharp prick on his neck. A fog descended over him, followed by blackness.

"I was right to be worried," Bobby thought. There was a slashing pain in his wrists, and he couldn't suppress his garbled cry.

"Let's lift him up, Mark. And let him know where he is and who we are."

His arms screamed in pain as his body was wrenched up. Bobby struggled to keep his balance and relieve some of the pressure on his arms. "Oh, God," he thought. "What are they going to do to me? This…this man must be Sebastian…Oh, God…Alex…Alex…Is this what you went through? Alex…Alex…Forgive me…Please let me see you again so I can tell you how sorry I am…"

The rope holding Bobby up was suddenly released, and he fell nearly to the floor before the rope was jerked tight. Bobby cried out again as his arms and shoulders caught his weight. He twisted in pain as his body was pulled up until he stood precariously on his toes.

"You must pay attention." The older man stood in front of Bobby. It was difficult to place his age, but he seemed to be a few years younger than Declan Gage.

"You're a bright man, Detective Goren," the man said. His manner was pleasant, polite, genial. "You must realize by now who I am. You know me as Sebastian."

Bobby again shivered involuntarily. He heard an unpleasant chuckle behind him.

"That is Mark Caldwell, of course. You've already had some contact with him," Sebastian continued. "My protégé…" Sebastian smiled. "My Robert Goren, if you will."

Bobby fought not to shiver again and give Caldwell and Sebastian the satisfaction of seeing his fear. Sebastian reached out and touched Bobby's chin almost tenderly. Bobby tried to pull away, but Sebastian's grip tightened painfully.

"It's wonderful how Mark has helped me. When I was in prison and met him, I was in despair. But he's given me purpose. He has such interesting ideas about how to improve my work. And he told me what an inspiration I was to him. You saw the results of our first project together. I think you'll agree they were very impressive."

Bobby struggled to show that he wanted to answer.

"Oh, no, Detective Goren," Sebastian chuckled. "I don't believe we'll let you use your legendary skills on us. At least not for a while. Later we may be interested in your reactions to our work. I must confess, however, that we are a little disappointed that your lovely partner isn't here as well. I wanted to show her how I really work. And both Mark and I prefer women…You will be our first male…" Sebastian patted Bobby's cheek. "At some point I must ask you about Dr. Gage. I've always wondered about his preferences."

Bobby scarcely heard Sebastian's musings. He was too full of gratitude that Alex wasn't with him. "She'll know…" he thought. "When I don't call her…She'll know I'm in trouble…She'll look for me…I just have to hang on…"

Bobby heard a soft snick behind him, followed by a terrible smack on his naked back. The pain cut through his body. He gasped desperately for breath, and blood seeped from his wrists as he twisted and shook.

"Mark," Sebastian said deliberately. "Was especially disappointed that your partner isn't here. But we believe you'll make a suitable substitute."

"No…No…No," Bobby thought as the two men dropped him to the floor. In spite of the pain from the restraints, he jerked and twisted and tried to fight Sebastian and Caldwell as they bent him over the wooden plank. The sharp edges cut into his stomach. "No!" Bobby screamed in his head. "Oh, God…Alex…Alex…No…I can't think of her…I can't let them know how much…No…No…Oh, God…Alex…Alex…"

His world grew red and black with pain.

END CHAPTER SEVEN


	8. Chapter 8

A short chapter, but a logical place to stop, I believe.

CHAPTER EIGHT

By the time an increasingly worried Alex arrived at Major Case, a massive search was underway for Bobby. Alerted by the guard at the front desk, Ross met Alex as she stepped off the elevator.

"Don't worry," Ross assured her. "We'll find him…We've got good information from you and him…I've pulled a lot of the Squad to find him."

"I should've gone with him," Alex muttered as she walked to her desk. "I shouldn't have let him go alone…"

"Don't do that to yourself, Alex," Ross said gently. "I need to tell you…Before Goren went to that bar…" Ross hesitated. "He visited Declan Gage."

Alex sat heavily in her chair. "I knew he was up to something like that," she said with more resignation than anger. "I knew it."

Ross was relieved at her response. "I was told it didn't go very well for Goren…I understand what he was trying to do, Alex…I know he was trying to get information to help us find Mark Caldwell. I can't fault him for that."

As angry as she was at Bobby for his action, Alex found she also couldn't fault him for trying to deal with the case and protect her.

The search continued for the rest of the night and into the next morning. Knowing she'd ignore any order to go home, Ross ordered Alex to stay at her desk, and she worked at trying to trace Caldwell, the mysterious Thomas Linley, and that white van that worried Bobby. By the time the sun started to rise, detectives had tracked down the bartender who worked where Bobby met Linley. The young man, who'd just gotten to bed after working a long shift, recognized Bobby as the man who'd suddenly taken ill and had to be helped from the bar by an older man. In addition to recognizing Bobby and giving a good description of the older man, the bartender identified Mark Caldwell as a man who'd left a young woman at the bar. The woman was so inebriated that the bartender had called her a cab, and so he was also able to provide her address.

"He's given us a lot," Ross said reassuringly to Alex when he made one of his frequent reports to her. "He may be the first person to get a good look at Sebastian…"

Alex bit her lip. She felt horrible exposed sitting at her desk in the middle of Major Case. "But if Caldwell and Sebastian have Bobby…"

"We'll find him," Ross insisted.

"I…I know what Sebastian does," Alex said. She looked up at Ross, who couldn't meet her eyes. "From what Bobby told me…and from what Jo did to me…"

Megan Wheeler appeared waving several papers. "We've tracked the van," she said excitedly. "It's registered to a Michael Sinclair. He's the right age to be Sebastian. He was released from prison several months ago."

Alex rose quickly to look at the reports.

"What was he in for?" Ross asked.

"Assault and attempted assault of two women in their twenties," Wheeler replied. "He got out early because of good behavior…Including participating in a couple of academic studies…One of which involved a class with…"

"Mark Caldwell," Alex breathed.

"Tracing and finding that van is our best bet," Ross said. "We have to find Goren as soon as possible." He looked at Wheeler and Alex. "I've read some about the Sebastian case too," he said softly.

Alex struggled not to shiver. She knew from Bobby and her own study that Sebastian kept and tortured his victims for two to three days. She knew that from her own experience at Jo Gage's hands. Marian Brewster's body indicated she'd been kept alive for four to five days. The clock was ticking for Bobby, and as it clicked he was in great pain.

The shrill ring of Alex's cell phone broke the silence. Alex pulled it from her pocket, opened it, and her blood froze as she read the message on its screen.

HAVING A WONDERFUL TIME WITH YOUR PARTNER. TOO BAD YOU'RE NOT WITH US. SEBASTIAN AND MARK.

She mutely held the phone out to Ross, who blanched as he read the message. "Get me a tech," he shouted. "We have to trace this…"

"Oh, God," Alex prayed. The terrible memory of the fear and pain returned. For one horrible moment she thought she felt the muscles in her arms and shoulders ripping and tearing. "Bobby…Bobby…Don't give up…Please…Please…"

END CHAPTER EIGHT


	9. Chapter 9

Warning--A very dark chapter. Bobby in Sebastian's hands.

CHAPTER NINE

There were moments when he couldn't remember ever being without pain—terrible, awful, all consuming pain. Sebastian and Caldwell hit him with flat boards as he hung by his handcuffed wrists. They whipped him with belts and leather straps that left welts and cuts on his body. They burned and smacked the bottom of his feet. Sebastian sliced his skin, but his torturers left his face and head alone.

"We want Detective Eames to be able to recognize you," Sebastian whispered to him. "And we don't want you to suffer a blow to your head that might keep you from enjoying our work. And you do enjoy it, don't you, Detective? I believe you might think you deserve it…I know something about you from what Gage said and reading the newspapers. You abandoned your mother…your brother…Detective Eames."

Bobby refused to answer. Sebastian's comments were too close to the truth. "Dec…" Bobby thought. "I told you things…I trusted you…How could you tell anyone?"

Just when he thought he couldn't bear the pain any longer, Sebastian and Caldwell gave him powerful painkillers. Bobby wasn't sure what they were, but he suspected vicodin and codeine and some opiates. A fog would descend on Bobby. The drugs didn't completely take away the pain, but they did take him to some other places. The other places weren't always pleasant destinations. When his torturers wanted to resume their horrible games, they pumped amphetamines into Bobby. Hallucinations began to plague him, and Bobby couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. Images of his mother, his brother, the man he thought was his father, his biological father, Nicole Wallace, his time in Tate—everything horrible and terrible in his life—swept through his mind. He desperately tried to take refuge in the only thing that offered him comfort. "Alex," he thought. He fought to keep from revealing how much she meant to him to Sebastian and Caldwell. He had to keep her away from them. He would've happily welcomed death except for Alex. "Please…Please, God…Let me tell her how much she means to me…How sorry I am for everything I ever did to her…Please."

They didn't, at least, rape him after that first time. Sebastian sneered and told Bobby he'd had better men in prison. Caldwell was bitterly disappointed that Bobby kept fighting and wasn't passive and terrified like Marian Brewster. They finally removed the gag, and Bobby was enormously grateful to be able to breathe more freely. Sebastian wanted to talk to him about Gage, but Bobby remembered that the one point of Gage's profile of Sebastian that saved Alex was that refusing to respond to the killer might keep a victim alive. Sebastian appeared puzzled by Bobby's silence, but it increasingly enraged Caldwell. Through his pain and drug filled haze, Bobby became aware of a growing division between the two men, but he couldn't take advantage of it. He was too confused and hurt. At several points, Bobby heard his cell phone ring with Alex's tone, and terror filled him that Sebastian or Caldwell would answer it and talk to Alex, or, worse, lure her to this terrible place.

"My phone…" Bobby thought. "It's over there…In the pile of my clothes…"

He clung desperately to the moments—seconds it seemed to him—of lucidity that came just as the drugs took hold or wore off and the pain eased or started. "Sebastian," he thought in these brief periods. "Usually kept his victims two to three days…He didn't use drugs…Didn't have them…Caldwell introduced that…Caldwell wants it to last longer…Marian…Oh God, poor Marian…It looked like they had her a week….My connection with Gage…My refusal to talk…It'll give me more time…But how much time has gone by already? How long before they start carving me up? Alex…Please find me…Please let me tell you…"

"You know, Detective Goren," Sebastian said as he and Caldwell hauled Bobby up for another torture session. He smiled at Bobby. "Such a formal title, don't you think? What does Declan Gage call you? Robert? Bob?"

"Maybe he calls him son," Caldwell laughed.

Bobby heard the sickly familiar sound of the leather strap smacking against the wooden table. He tried to brace for the blow, but Caldwell released the rope holding up Bobby's handcuffed wrists, and Bobby fell to his bruised knees. Before he could recover, Caldwell and Sebastian jerked Bobby up again, and the strap cut into his bloody back. A cry escaped Bobby's lips, and he struggled to keep his bruised and burned feet beneath him.

"I've often wondered about what happened between you and Gage," Sebastian continued. "He spoke very highly of you…Very highly…Upset many of the other investigators…I believe it added to the divisions among the people trying to find me. Of course, I never reached the inner circle where Gage held court. I could only observe. But I wonder if you'd been present if things might have been different."

Bobby had asked himself the same question many times. If he'd been there, he could've said no to Gage; he could've saved Gage and Gage's career; he could've saved some of Sebastian's victims; he could've saved Jo; he could've saved Marian Brewster; he could've saved Alex.

The leather strap slashed into his back again. Bobby's knees buckled, he cried out weakly in pain as his shoulders, arms and wrists took all of his weight. He struggled to regain his footing, but Caldwell and Sebastian raised him so that his body hung limply and painfully. His toes barely brushed the concrete floor.

"You know, Mark," Sebastian said thoughtfully.

Bobby shuddered. That tone of voice from Sebastian always foreshadowed some new and awful form of torture.

"I believe," Sebastian continued. "Our guest could use a good cleaning…"

Caldwell chuckled. "He does stink. And he's a mess. A good bath wouldn't hurt him…Or maybe it would…"

"Oh, God," Bobby thought. "What's their idea of "cleaning"?"

A blast of icy water froze his mind. The water hit him with such force that Bobby's body swung from the hook. He shook uncontrollably and violently from the cold and pain. He couldn't breathe, and began to desperately hope he'd pass out. The blast finally stopped, and Bobby hung limply again.

"And now," Sebastian said. "Mark has something for all of those nasty cuts…So they won't get infected…"

Bobby heard a cap being unscrewed from a bottle, and the smell of rubbing alcohol filled the air.

"No," he thought, just before the searing pain took him.

The pain finally subsided to a point where Bobby again became aware of his surroundings and realized his two torturers were arguing.

"That was too much," Sebastian said disapprovingly. "You must learn to be more subtle."

"We've been too subtle with him," Caldwell countered. "We need to start carving him up."

"I'm disappointed that we haven't had a better response from him," Sebastian said. "But think of how wonderful it'll be when he breaks…and he will break…"

Caldwell growled softly.

"Let him down a bit, Mark…So he can stand…And we can talk…"

Caldwell lowered Bobby so that Bobby could stand flatfooted on the floor. It offered some relief for his shoulders and arms and wrists, but his feet hurt terribly. He heard Sebastian and Caldwell's steps as they walked away and the door opening and shutting.

"Oh…God…So cold…So cold…" Bobby thought. "Alex…Please…Please help me…Alex…My clothes…My cell phone…Did they leave it?"

He looked up at his hands. The cuff on his right wrist dug into his skin, but the one on his left was loose. He cautiously moved his arms and winced at the pain. The blood and water on his skin provided some lubrication so that the cuff turned around his left wrist. "Maybe," he thought, but the prospect of pulling his hand through the cuff terrified him. He swallowed. "Alex…Alex did it…" He turned, and his arms screamed with pain. "Alex…Alex wasn't beaten and whipped and raped…" He swallowed again. He was horribly hungry and thirsty, and he fought the memories of his time at Tate. "Water," he thought. "There's water down there. And my clothes…And maybe the cell phone…If I can get to them…"

He turned painfully and slowly. He balanced precariously on his bare feet; the cold sent tiny, sharp needles into his skin. "Give up," part of mind told him. "You're just causing yourself more pain…They'll be back…Maybe with painkillers…If you try to get away, they'll hurt you more…Hell, you know they're going to hurt you more…Fight…Fight…You want to see Alex again…To…To tell her how sorry you are…How grateful you are." As the thoughts raced through his head, Bobby shifted and turned and pulled at the handcuffs. He concentrated on trying to free his left hand. The metal cut into his skin as he tried to force the cuff over his hand. His legs and stomach began to cramp, and he realized that his last dose of painkillers had been some time ago. "I don't know what I'm more afraid of," he thought. "Of Sebastian and Caldwell coming back…Or of they're not coming back." Blood streaked his left arm; it seemed to ease the cuff's movements.

His left arm suddenly fell by his side. The empty cuff flew up and clanged loudly against a pipe. He swayed on his feet, and his right arm, the handcuffs dangling from its wrist, fell by his side, and, his body screaming with pain, he dropped to the cold, wet floor. For several awful moments, his world was nothing but pain, the worst pain he had ever felt. He thought his body might tear itself apart, but the pain and cramps finally eased to a point where he could move. He found a large dip in the concrete where several inches of water collected. It was dirty, and he tried not to think of what was in it. It was, at least, cold and wet and soothed his parched throat, and it gave him enough relief that he could think.

"All right…My clothes…Where are they? My cell…Please…Please…Let it be there…"

He began to pull his body across the rough concrete. His right arm was nearly useless, and his legs offered little help. He pushed and pulled with his scraped and bloody left hand. His body left bloody streaks on the floor. The red mixed with the water to create tiny pink streams that swirled into the drain.

END CHAPTER NINE


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

In spite of the best efforts of the best of the NYPD, three days passed with no sign of Bobby. The techs traced the text call to a spot on a highway, but there were no further communications from Sebastian and Caldwell, and Alex's frantic calls to Bobby's cell went straight to his voice mail. They traced Michael Sinclair to an address in Queens, but the apartment was empty, and the landlord could only confirm that a man looking like Mark Caldwell had visited the polite older man who had lived there and provided a description of that older man that fit the man who'd taken Bobby from the bar.

Alex scarcely slept. Ross urged her to go home, or at least go down to the crib to get a few hours of decent sleep, but she couldn't shut her eyes without terrible images of what was probably happening to Bobby filling her head. The few time she managed to fall into something resembling sleep she woke up with screams threatening to tear out of her throat. She wasn't certain if the fact that she had a very good idea of what was happening to Bobby made things better or worse. She also wasn't sure if her presence hurt or helped the investigation; she saw the curious, embarrassed, and frightened looks from other detectives. But she couldn't leave Major Case.

In one of those twists Alex found amusing when she was able to look back on a case, the young woman who'd escaped Sebastian and Caldwell's clutches because of Bobby's actions turned out to be the daughter of a city official who was a close friend of the Mayor. Alex wasn't entirely sure of the connections, but the young woman, whose body carried several of the drugs used on Marian Brewster, and her family were convinced that Detective Robert Goren had saved her from not only death but a fate worse than that. The family's influence extended far enough that even the Chief of Detectives was, at least publicly, wholeheartedly supporting the search for the lost detective. Alex would've laughed if she hadn't been so afraid.

She knew time was against them. Sebastian usually held his victims three days. Marian Brewster had been held for a week or so. Because of his connections to Gage, Bobby might get a few more precious days. "But," Alex thought. "If he's in horrible pain and we don't find him, what's the use?" Alex tried to keep that thought out of her head. She remembered how terrified and helpless she felt when Jo Gage had her. She imagined things were much worse for Bobby with his memories of his time at Tate.

On the third morning, Alex sat in a conference room with the other members of the hastily assembled force searching for Bobby. The FBI had lent the NYPD Frank Douglass and a profiler. Alex blamed the Bureau and anyone connected with it for at least some of what was happening; she tried not to think about how much this was like what the Bureau had done to Declan Gage. She attempted to avoid the profiler and Douglass. She liked George Huang, the psychiatrist who often worked with SVU and was also helping them, who seemed to have an open mind. The FBI profiler had just made some horribly obvious point, and Alex saw the usually diplomatic Huang roll his eyes.

"I'm sorry," the profiler said. "Frankly, we need someone with a better knowledge of Sebastian."

"Someone like Goren," Huang said softly.

"Or Declan Gage," Douglass said."

"Both of whom are not available," Ross said sharply.

Alex stirred. "Gage can't…or won't…talk to anyone?"

"Something of both," Ross said. "His doctors say his thoughts are…erratic…And when he's somewhat lucid, he wants to talk to your partner."

"He doesn't know that…" Alex asked.

"No," Ross said. "I don't think we owe him…"

"He might know something that might help us," Alex said.

Ross studied her for a moment. "No…" he said. "You are not going to talk with Gage…He probably doesn't know anything…Or he won't remember…And that's if he even would agree to see you…"

"He'll agree," Alex replied. "He's been waiting to talk to me…And I can handle it."

"Goren thought that too," Ross said. "And Gage went after him…I do not want Gage to use you for his own…"

"I don't care," Alex said fiercely. "If there's a chance it'll help save Bobby…"

"I think." George Huang carefully entered the debate. "That Gage will talk to Detective Eames. But I seriously doubt how much help he'll be."

"Captain. You have to let me do this." Alex didn't care that everyone in the conference room heard her plead. "It's the only thing I can do that no one else can. Bobby has only so much time. And we all know he's suffering…"

"All right," Ross conceded. "All right…If Gage agrees…But be careful, Alex."

For the next two hours Alex pretended to research attacks similar to Marian Brewster's case. The prospect of facing Declan Gage weighed heavily on her mind, and Alex truly didn't know if she wanted to see the man or not. It was nearly two when Ross waved her into his office. The Captain looked unhappy as he shut his office door behind her.

"I've heard from Gage's lawyer," he said. "Gage will talk to you…If you come right away."

Alex sat heavily in the chair closest to Ross' desk. "He wants me off-balance," she thought out loud. "Or he hopes I won't come." She looked up at Ross. "Does he know that Sebastian has Bobby?"

"His lawyer said Gage had been told something," Ross said. "But he's not sure how much Gage understood…His mental facilities…Well, like his physical health…" Ross shrugged. "But I think he's still capable of causing a great deal of pain."

Alex stood. "He can't hurt me, Captain. I know who he is and what he's capable of. He keeps underestimating me…and he's jealous of me. I can use all of that."

Ross sadly smiled. "I see that working with Goren has rubbed off on you. And I mean that as a compliment. But be careful, Alex."

Megan Wheeler drove Alex to Ryker's. The young detective was quiet until they were near the prison. "I'm sorry," Wheeler said. "I don't know what to say."

"It's ok," Alex said. "I don't know what to say either." She studied Wheeler. "Ross is worried about me? You're here…to keep an eye on me?"

"Yes," Wheeler answered without hesitating. "He's worried that you haven't gotten any sleep or enough to eat. That you feel responsible for this and all of this is too close to you. He really doesn't like you seeing Gage."

"I've always liked your honesty, Megan," Alex said sincerely. "Truth is, I am tired and I do feel responsible for what's happening and I don't want to talk to Gage. I'm not sure it'll do any good. But I gotta try."

Wheeler wanted to accompany Alex on the interview; Alex wanted her to stay in the car. They compromised to the point that Alex allowed Wheeler to wait for her outside the infirmary. Gage's lawyer waited for Alex there.

"I have to be honest with you, Detective Eames," the man said. "Mr. Gage isn't at his best today. I'm not sure how much he can help you."

"Does he know about Detective Goren?" Alex asked.

"I tried to explain the situation. But I'm not sure he heard anything beyond Sebastian." The lawyer looked apologetic. "The case is an obsession with him."

Alex disliked visiting Ryker's or any prison almost as much as Bobby did, but for different reasons. Bobby always hated seeing anyone or anything imprisoned. Alex believed most of the people in prisons belonged there, or at least were largely responsible for their own fates. It was something Bobby saw in shades of grey, while Alex saw it in black and white. As she waited for the guard to unlock the infirmary door, Alex desperately wished she could be arguing that point, or any other one, with Bobby. She felt naked without her gun. As much as she hated using it, she hated not having it. The small piece she frequently carried in an ankle holster rarely eased her mind. She needed to know where her official piece was, and she preferred to have it close. Bobby appeared to prefer not wearing his gun. Alex observed that he shed it as soon and as frequently as he could. She knew he didn't possess a backup piece until she'd given him one of her father's ancient revolvers the second Christmas of their partnership. Through Bobby's suspension Alex wondered if giving him the gun had been such a good idea. She gained enough courage and was worried enough after Gage's arrest to tentatively ask Bobby about it. He didn't take offense at her question and shyly admitted that he hadn't been able to figure out how to clean it or where to buy bullets for it. "But it meant so much to me that you gave it to me and that it was your Dad's that I never wanted to tell you…" he said, his eyes downcast. Alex didn't try to hide her relief that Bobby couldn't easily get his hands on the gun, and Bobby hadn't tried to hide that he was touched by her relief.

All of this raced through her mind as she followed Gage's lawyer and the guard into the infirmary. Ross had warned her about Gage's physical collapse; Bobby about his mental, but she wasn't prepared for the wild-eyed skeleton in the bed before her. For a brief moment, a small spark of sympathy flared in her, but Gage quickly quenched it when he haughtily dismissed his lawyer and the guard.

"So," he said imperiously. "What's happened to Bobby?"

Alex didn't ask how he knew something had happened to Bobby. She guessed that even if Gage hadn't remember what his lawyer had told him that the man would know she would only see him if Bobby couldn't.

"Sebastian has him," Alex said flatly. She would not, could not, let Gage know how upset she was.

Gage at first looked shocked and then, to Alex's horror, delighted and curious. "Extraordinary…extraordinary," he muttered. He shook his head and rubbed his claw like hands together. The sound reminded Alex of dead leaves burning. "He's changed his MO…You're sure it's him…"

"Yes," Alex said, successfully hiding her impatience. "It's definitely him…And we have his real name. It's Thomas Linley."

Gage frowned at the name.

"He posed as a forensic psychologist. He infiltrated your investigation."

Gage struggled with his thoughts. "That…That's impossible…I would've recognized…"

"Bobby did." Alex tried not to sound too proud of her partner. "He knew there was something wrong about Linley from the start."

"Sebastian took him because of me," Gage muttered.

Alex seized one of Gage's bony arms. "I know," she said sharply. "That you're a sick old man. I know that for all you've done to Bobby, he remembers what you've done for him. But this is not about you. This is about Bobby. Sebastian and his protégé have him. You and I know what they're doing to him. If you've ever cared about Bobby, now's the time for you to show it."

Gage stared at her, and Alex fought back the bubble of satisfaction she felt at the man's confusion. "No," she thought. "That makes you no better than Gage…This is about Bobby…Bobby…"

"Bobby wouldn't be so stupid," Gage said.

"He wasn't," Alex said sharply. "He did it to keep a young woman from Sebastian."

Gage slammed his hand on the bed. "Damn it, Bobby! I always told you that big heart of yours…"

"That big heart of his," Alex said, her voice rising. "Is why he's a good man…A great man…And why you never really understood him."

Gage stared at her again, but Alex wasn't sure if he actually saw her.

"Look," she said. "I'm not here to play some game with you. Bobby doesn't have a lot of time. Sebastian has him and is hurting him. If you have something that can help find him, tell me. If not, I'm leaving."

Gage shot out a skeletal arm, and his claws clutched Alex's arm. "There's one thing." Sanity and compassion glimmered in Gage's eyes. "Linley…Linley liked sushi…I went out with him and some others. Back then, it was unusual to find anyone who knew what sushi was, let alone liked it. He liked it enough that I remember him saying he had it several times a week and he knew the best places in New York." Gage slowly released his grip on her arm. "I do care about him…I do."

For a moment Alex saw the Declan Gage Bobby had told her about. She saw a brilliant, kind man capable of recognizing the gifts of a confused, troubled young man. Then, brutally and quickly, the man disappeared.

"You've got to get me out of here," Gage said. He clutched at Alex's arm, but she wrenched away. "I'm the only one who can deal with him. Even you must see that."

Alex stepped back from Gage's bed. She wasn't like Bobby. Knowing what the man had been didn't mean that she could forgive what the man had become.

"What I know," she said coldly. "Is that you let Sebastian get away. And now he has Bobby. And it's your fault." She turned to go.

"You care too much about him!" Gage shouted. "You don't see things clearly. You're jealous of me."

Alex spun to face Gage. Her control vanished. "You…How could I be jealous of you…You're in jail…Your mind is turning to mush…You're dying…"

"Jealous…Jealous of my time with Bobby…My work with him…Jealous that I knew him before you…That he depends…"

Alex shook her head. "You selfish son-of-a-bitch. Thank God Bobby is nothing like you…He doesn't depend on you…"

Gage's mind shifted gears. "But…he depends on you…" He spoke slowly. "And you…You resent it…You…"

His words punctured Alex's anger. She took a deep breath. "I may have once," she said carefully. "But not now. I…I'm…I depend on him just as much…I'm a better cop because I work with him…I'm a better person because I know him. But I don't know if you're capable of understanding that. I don't know if you were when you were well."

Alex turned and left the infirmary, leaving an astonished Gage behind her.

Wheeler waited for her in the waiting room, but the younger detective was perceptive enough not to say anything until they were in the car and well away from Ryker's.

"Bad?" she finally asked.

"Yea," Alex sighed. "But I might've gotten one thing. Linley likes…Or at least he used to…sushi…"

Wheeler frowned. "But a lot of people like sushi…"

"That was ten…fifteen…years ago," Alex said. "When you were in…What…Elementary school?"

Wheeler gave her a look of mock anger. "Junior high, thank you very much."

Alex smiled weakly. "Well…Sushi wasn't so common…"

"It'd be worth it to check some of the sushi places near where Linley lived," Wheeler said. "Maybe he's still hanging around and eating his raw fish."

"It's something," Ross said when Alex and Wheeler returned to Major Case and reported to him. "It's more than I thought we'd get from Gage. We'll start with the places closest to Linley's last address and work outward."

Alex had called three places before Ross appeared at her desk. "Any luck?" he asked, and knew immediately from Alex's face the answer.

"One that yelled at me for asking stupid questions about her customers; one that spoke a language I didn't recognize; and one that was sorry they couldn't help me." Alex rubbed her eyes.

"Hang in there, Alex," Ross said gently. "We'll keep calling and…"

Alex's cell phone beeped on her desk. She grabbed it, stared at the number, and held it up to Ross. "Bobby," she said. Before she'd answered the phone, Ross was across the room arranging a trace.

"Ea…Eames…" Alex's heart leaped at the sound of Bobby's voice, and immediately crashed at the terrible pain in it.

"Bobby," she breathed, and realized that every eye in Major Case was on her.

"Please…Don't know…How long…I have…" Bobby coughed and groaned in pain.

"Bobby…Where are you?" Ross pulled Alex from her chair and guided her from the squad room.

"Basement…Don't know where…Very cold…Wet…The girl…They were going to…"

"She's all right, Bobby. Keep talking. We're doing a trace…Keep your phone on…"

"They…They'll come back…I…Keep the phone on…Try to hide it…Oh…Oh…" He cried feebly in pain. "Ea…Eames…"

"I'm here, Bobby. I'm here." Alex and Ross and other cops were in the elevator now. "Hang on…We're coming…I promise you we're coming…"

"I…Gotta tell you…Sorry…I'm so sorry…" Each word cost Bobby a great deal.

"Bobby," Alex said as she and the other cops moved through the garage. "It's all right. We're coming. I'm coming."

"Everything I've ever done to you…Sorry…So sorry…"

"Bobby…You can tell me this when I see you." Alex struggled to control her voice as Ross and Wheeler bundled her into the back of a car.

"You…Never just…You everything…If…If I ever…I know I did…Hurt you…Please…Please…Forgive me…"

"Robert Goren." Alex tightly gripped her phone. "If you want me to forgive you, you gotta stay alive…You gotta fight…That's the deal."

A long silence followed, and Alex feared that Bobby had passed out or, worse, had his phone taken away.

"I…I'll try…" he whispered, and Alex winced at the pain in his voice. "I…I gotta hide…Alex…"

"Bobby…"

"Alex…Thank you…Thank you…You…Best thing ever in my life. Thank you…"

There was a sound of shuffling and then nothing. Alex stared at the phone, and looked up at Ross and Wheeler.

"They left him…He got to his cell…But they'll be back…" she said.

Ross stared at the road. "We have to get to him before they do."

END CHAPTER TEN


	11. Chapter 11

This is gruesome. You've been warned.

I'm even beginning to worry about me.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Bobby slipped his cell phone into a crack in the wall behind the pile of his clothes. Fumbling painfully with his left hand, he awkwardly shoved his ripped shirt in front of the crack. He managed to grab his raincoat and pull it around him as he slumped to the cold concrete floor. He shook from the cold and the pain, both of which grew as the painkillers continued to lose their grip on his body and his mind. The memory of Alex's voice gave him solace, and he fought against the desire to grab his phone to hear it again. He clung to three things—that he'd told Alex how sorry he was; that he'd told her how grateful he was to her; and that he might see her again.

"I promised," he thought. "I promised I'd try to hang on." He shook and moaned. "Alex…Please…I'm trying…But…It hurts so much…I'm loosing so much blood…I'm so weak…And if they come back before…Oh, God…Alex…Please…Hurry…"

He curled into a ball, desperately trying to get the coat around his body, and wished he'd worn his heavy overcoat the night he'd met…what should he call the beast? How many names did it have? That day seemed to belong to another world. He remembered how beautiful it was, more like early spring than late winter. He remembered seeing the first yellow splashes of daffodils. "I wonder how long it's been…I wonder if I'll ever get to see daffodils again…I wonder if I'll ever get to see Alex again…"

Cramps seized him, and he cried out in pain. His stomach rolled, and Bobby threw up a reddish liquid. "Oh, God," he though. "I'm bleeding eternally…I'm dying…And I'm leaving nothing…Nothing."

He heard a distant door slam, and voices echoed off the concrete block walls. "Oh…They're back…No…Oh…Please…Alex…Please…Come…Or let them kill me…Please…"

The door to his torture chamber slammed open.

"What the hell…" Caldwell said in surprise. He stomped over to Bobby and kicked him hard. Bobby moaned weakly; he couldn't get away. Caldwell seized Bobby's coat and yanked it from him. Bobby feebly tried to hold on to it. Part of the coat stuck to his back and ripped what little remained of his skin as Caldwell pulled it away. Bobby shook more violently with the pain and the cold air that struck his body.

"He got down…out of the cuffs?" Sebastian asked as he entered the room. "I'm impressed…Very impressed…"

"Son of a bitch!" Caldwell growled as he prepared to unleash another kick.

"Mark…Please…Calm yourself…I promised you…We can go on to the next stage…We can continue our work…And send some gifts to Detective Eames…"

Briefly appeased, Caldwell smiled. "I still think an ear or a finger…Or something more intimate, like you said…might be better."

Bobby's stomach lurched again.

"We agreed, Mark," Sebastian said amiably. "All of those are so simple. They don't really allow you to demonstrate your skills."

"Yea…I think I'll go for the spleen. It'll be wonderfully bloody. Great thing for his partner to see…"

Bobby scarcely registered that the two men were planning to carve him up like a turkey. He focused on Alex's name and what might happen to her. "No…Don't let them do anything to hurt her…No…"

"Let's get him ready," Sebastian purred.

Caldwell grabbed Bobby's right arm. Bobby struggled weakly. Sebastian moved forward and stepped on Bobby's battered left hand. Caldwell lifted Bobby's right arm, tied a rubber band around it so he could find a vein, and took a hypodermic from the table.

Sebastian chuckled. "I think he's very close to breaking, Mark…Very close."

Caldwell laughed as he jabbed the needle into Bobby's vein. The drug's warm, comforting wave began to cover the painful haze.

"Please," Bobby whispered.

"It speaks," Sebastian laughed. "And it says please…"

"I…I'll talk to you about Gage…Anything you want to know…If…" Bobby swallowed. He knew he didn't have much time before the combination of the drugs and the pain kept him from thinking clearly. "If…If whatever you take…You won't send to Detective Eames…"

Sebastian bent over and studied Bobby. "My goodness, Mark. I think the thought of troubling Detective Eames scares Bobby more than anything we've done to him or may do to him. Let's get him up on the table."

Bobby couldn't fight as the two men hoisted him up and tied him to the cold steel table. They secured him with ropes and duct tape. It took them some time to remove the cuff from his right hand, which was embedded in the skin. Bobby lost himself in thoughts of Alex.

"I told her…I told her…How grateful I am…How much…How sorry I am." He stopped trying to fight the drugs and fell into their embrace. The pain remained, but it was far away and almost seemed to belong to another person. "Alex…She's coming…I'll try to stay alive…I promised her…But I've done what I had to…I told her…"

Caldwell, an eerie smile on his face, stood over Bobby. A surgical knife gleamed in his hands. "Let's get started…"

"Wait, Mark. Just let me talk to him for a while," Sebastian said. "After all, it's one of the reasons we took him. You can…"encourage"…him if he doesn't want to talk. And then you'll get to practice your skills."

"Alex," Bobby thought. "Please…"

END CHAPTER ELEVEN


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Bobby," Alex thought. "Bobby…Hang on…We're coming…We'll be there soon…" She strained to hear what might be happening to Bobby.

"We've got an ID of Sinclair and Caldwell," Wheeler said excitedly. "A restaurant that delivered to an address…Here…" She handed her cell to Ross. Alex sat up and leaned forward.

Ross listened intently. "Yes…Yes…" He handed the phone back to Wheeler. "Wheeler…Get on the radio…Let everyone know the address…Tell them to approach silently…No sirens…No lights…The trace on Goren's phone is taking us to the same area…We don't want to spook these guys…"

Alex felt a glimmer of hope. "Bobby…Hang on…" The phrase became a prayer in her head. She continued to listen to her phone, and gasped. Wheeler spun around to look at her while Ross concentrated on the road.

"They're back," Alex said.

Wheeler blinked, and Ross' grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"We're almost there," Ross said.

"What if they find the phone," Alex thought out loud.

They were in a section of Queens where industrial warehouses were being turned into expensive apartments, but the recent economic troubles had slowed or stopped the work. Ross parked the car at the chained fence entrance to a square of ugly, concrete block buildings. Alex hurriedly put on a bullet proof vest. Bobby hated the vests, gloomily commenting that they barely covered him and that the really bad guys had guns with bullets that could easily pierce them. She followed Ross and Wheeler.

"Alex," Ross said kindly. "Are you sure…"

"He's my partner," Alex replied.

"Goren said the same thing when…" Ross swallowed. "Let's go…"

Two uniforms appeared just inside the gate. They opened it, and the older black woman quickly credited her younger partner with noticing the two men and their resemblances to the bulletins and briefings they'd received. The younger cop reddened at the praise, and Alex was struck by how much he reminded her of Joe. "Please," she thought. "I can't lose another…Oh, God…Is that how I feel about Bobby?" Before she could consider the terrifying implications of these thoughts, a wave of cops swept Alex towards the building the two uniforms saw the suspects enter.

"Quiet," Ross said. "We don't want these guys to hurt Goren any more than they have or to create a hostage situation."

"Bobby said he was in a basement," Alex said.

The front door opened easily with the use of a skeleton key. "Be careful," Ross warned.

Only one set of stairs led to the basement area. Her heart pounding, Alex followed a phalanx of tactical cops. Ross was at her left; Wheeler just behind her to her right. They moved swiftly and quietly down the stairs and faced a large door that was a few inches open. They paused, and heard angry voices from behind the door.

"Bobby," Alex whispered when she recognized his faint voice.

"Wait here," Ross whispered to the tactical team. "I don't want a lot of guns in there." He turned to Alex and Wheeler. "You two with me."

The trio took a deep breath. Ross kicked the door open, and they rushed in.

Alex and Bobby occasionally discussed those moments when time seemed to move at different speeds. Bobby explained once that scientists thought the effect was the result of a trick of the brain. At a time of stress, the brain took in details and registered everything it could so that it could process the information and produce the correct response. "Unfortunately," Bobby told her as he poured her another cup of coffee from the thermos. "That may be why the brain remembers terrible things so well. And it may be why we can't tell it what to remember, or that it won't remember really good times as well as it does bad ones. But time is time. It is. It can't change. What changes is our experience of it."

At this moment, Alex's experience of time was horribly slow. As she rushed in the room, she saw a slender, short older man wearing a blue smock over a white shirt and grey pants sitting on a tall stool. A tall young man wearing a similar smock over blue jeans and a red T-shirt stood over a tall table. Both men spun to face the door. The young man raised his right hand, and Alex saw a gleaming knife in it.

"Police!" Ross shouted. "Drop the weapon! On the floor!"

The older man stared at them in shock; rage filled the younger man's face. He spun back to the table, the knife still raised. A gunshot roared in her right ear. The younger man staggered and crumpled to the floor. The knife tumbled from his hand, struck the metal table with a terrible clang, and hit the floor just as the young man did. Ross rushed forward, seized the older man, and threw him to the wet floor. Alex was dimly aware of a white Megan Wheeler standing with her gun in her hands and of hordes of cops scrambling into the room. But her concentration was focused on what was on the table.

She wasn't sure it was human at first. It looked like a huge piece of raw meat. As she moved closer (Alex thought she walked slowly, but Ross later told her she was a blur), Alex realized the object was a body. She rushed to the other side of the table and saw Bobby's face. A wave of relief poured over her as she saw he was alive; an equally large wave of fear followed it. Bobby's eyes were full of pain and fear and something else. Alex realized he was drugged almost to the point of unconsciousness. Rope and duct tape secured him to the table, and he was naked. She felt ashamed for him and seized the first thing she found to cover him. It was his grey raincoat, and it was only after she threw it over him that Alex saw that it was damp with blood.

"Oh, Bobby," she whispered.

Cops filled the room. Linley/Sebastian/Sinclair—whatever he was—lay on his stomach on the red streaked concrete and screamed about his work being interrupted and his son killed while two cops not so gently cuffed and restrained him. Mark Caldwell, his eyes blinking and his chest heaving, lay on his back as his life bled away from him. Alex registered this on her mind's edges; her attention was on Bobby. As gently and carefully as she could, she reached under the raincoat to untie the rope and pull off the duct tape. She winced as the tape clung to his bloody skin, but Bobby was either in too much pain or too drugged to notice. Other hands appeared to help her, and one pair gave her a bottle of water. Others eased Bobby on his back. Wheeler gently slipped a bundle under Bobby's head to act as a pillow. Alex opened the water bottle and raised it to Bobby's mouth. His lips moved when the first drops of water touched them, but he couldn't lift his head. Ross appeared on the other side of the table, and he helped raise Bobby's head. Alex held the bottle up, and Bobby gulped the water.

"Easy," Alex said gently. She was stunned that her voice sounded so calm. "Not too fast."

He continued to drink, but his pace slowed. He finished the bottle and stared at Alex, who lowered her head closer to his.

"Real…Are you…" he painfully whispered.

Alex tenderly touched his forehead. "Yes…I'm real…"

Bobby blinked and swallowed. "You…All right…"

Alex choked. "Yes," she said after a moment. "I am now."

Ross cautiously touched Alex's shoulder. "The EMTs are coming down."

Alex nodded, but kept her eyes on Bobby.

"Captain…" Bobby coughed violently, and his body shook with pain. "I…I wasn't stupid…"

"Detective," Ross said gently. "Take it easy. We've going to get you out of here…"

"They…They were going to…The girl…I…I couldn't think …Of anything else…I had…I couldn't let them…"

"Goren," Ross said. "You did the right thing. Don't worry…"

"I…I'm sorry…I…I cause you so much trouble…Sorry…"

"Goren…Don't worry…Just hold on…That's an order," Ross said shakily.

Bobby blinked and shivered. "Al…Alex…"

"I'm right here." Alex laid her hand against his cheek. His beard was surprisingly soft.

"I…I told you…Phone…I…I was sorry…"

"Yes." Alex saw how difficult it was for him to speak and to concentrate on her. "Remember what I told you. You want me to forgive you, you gotta hold on." She brushed his cheek with her fingers.

"Try…I…I'll try…" He turned his face towards her hand. "But…But…It…Hurts…And…I…I can't tell…What's real…"

Ross again touched Alex's shoulder. "Go with him to the hospital. I'll be there as soon as I'm able."

Alex nodded. Her eyes remained on Bobby.

Four EMTs entered the room and pushed through the chaos. Two started to drop by Caldwell. One of the cops growled, "Don't bother with that thing. Take care of our guy." He gestured towards Bobby.

Alex heard the cop, and thought that Bobby wouldn't have had that response to Caldwell. "So," she thought. "This is what it takes for him to be accepted by other cops…For him to be tortured nearly to death…"

The other two EMTs moved to Bobby. As they started to treat him, Alex saw fear grow in his eyes.

"Bobby," she said softly, and again touched his cheek. "It's ok. You can trust them. They're not the people who hurt you. They're here to help you. You can trust me. I promise."

He blinked. "Please…Please…Don't leave me…Please…"

"I'll stay…I promise…I'll stay…"

END CHAPTER TWELVE


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

There was a great freedom in realizing you might be about to die and couldn't do anything about it. Bobby realized this just as the drugs (from their effects Bobby thought they must be a potent combination of some opiate and oxycontin, and he wondered at the fact his brain needed to puzzle this out) took hold. He had no control over what Sebastian and Caldwell would do to him. He had no control over when Alex and the other cops would arrive. He knew they would come, and that he had a chance of living if he held on. He would hold on as long as he could because he'd promised her that. But everything else was out of his hands. He knew the strange bliss like state he fell into was likely mostly the drugs, but he also thought part of it was that he'd let go and given his life over to fate or God or whatever it was he vaguely believed. He was aware that Caldwell stood over him with a surgical scalpel and that Caldwell and Sebastian were arguing about something. The fact they were arguing struck him as very funny, and Bobby would've laughed if he had the strength.

Noise and light exploded in the room. There was shouting, a terribly loud crack, and Bobby saw the knife, bright shimmers of light reflecting off of it, fly out of Caldwell's hand, spin end over end, clang against the table, and fall to the floor. He saw Caldwell crumble, collapse, and join the knife on the floor. He heard Sebastian's cries of shock and despair. "Of course," Bobby thought. "These all could be hallucinations. I may have lost my mind." He nearly laughed again. "All my life I've been afraid of losing my mind, and maybe in the last minutes of my life I finally do."

Alex's face appeared over him, and Bobby's heart leaped. "I don't care if she's real or not," he thought. "If she's the last thing I'll ever see…I'll be grateful…So grateful." She draped his raincoat over him and began to remove the ropes and tape that bound him to the table. She was very careful, but Bobby felt distant pain as the tape and rope stuck to his bruised and battered body. The drugs made it seem as if the pain belonged to another part of him. He became aware of other hands touching him, and panic briefly seized him until he realized these hands weren't trying to hurt him. The hands gently turned him on his back, and his bloody skin slid on the table's cold steel. Someone placed something soft beneath his head, and Alex raised a bottle of water to his lips. It was clean and cold, and he gulped it rapidly until Alex urged him to slow down. He told her again how grateful and sorry he was. He thought he saw Ross, and Bobby tried to explain and apologize to his captain. As Alex gently spoke to him, Bobby became more and more convinced that she was real, that he was alive, and he was free from Sebastian and Caldwell's clutches. He suffered another moment of panic when the EMTs surrounded him and began to check him and put IVs in him; their actions were too close to some of the things Sebastian and Caldwell did to him. Alex kept talking to him, telling him that he was all right, that these people were helping him, and his panic eased as he gave himself to her soft voice and touch. She sustained him as they lifted him off the cold table and on to a gurney; as they carefully carried him up the narrow stairs and through the dark and dirty hall and finally out into the cold, grey day; and placed him in the ambulance. Alex sat near his head as they rushed to the hospital. The bright, pulsing lights and wailing sirens pounded in his head, but Alex kept her hands on his face and head as much as she could. Bobby fixed his eyes on hers, and Alex stayed with him. She stayed with him as the EMTs pulled him out of the ambulance and hurried him to the nearest trauma room. Bobby weakly cried out when a phalanx of doctors and nurses blocked Alex from his sight. She pushed through them and laid her hand on his forehead.

"I'll be right out here," she promised. "I'm not going anywhere. Just remember our deal. I'll forgive you for everything. But you gotta fight…You stay alive…" She leaned forward and brushed her lips across his curls.

Their warmth flowed through him as she disappeared from his sight.

END CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A short and possibly redundant chapter, but I wanted to give Bobby's perspective.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Standard

I apologize for the shortness of this chapter and the delay in posting it. Plot bunnies attacked me after seeing PLAYING DEAD, and I've just finished a temporary second job.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Captain Danny Ross leaned back against the squad car's seat and closed his eyes.

"You ok, Captain?" the grizzled sergeant in the front passenger seat asked.

Ross didn't open his eyes. "Yes."

"I've seen a lot," the cop continued. "But what they did to Detective Goren." He shook his head. "Any man that can survive something like that…Must be a strong man."

"He is." Ross opened his eyes. "Strong, stubborn, and very, very smart. A good man and a good cop…Even if he's not always popular with the Brass…"

"Probably why he's a good cop, if you'll excuse me for saying so, Captain," the sergeant said.

"Right now, sergeant, I agree with you," Ross answered.

The younger cop driving the car glanced at the rearview mirror. "Any word on how Detective Goren is doing, Sir?"

"I haven't heard anything since they put him in the ambulance," Ross replied. "Thanks for the lift to the hospital."

"No problem," the sergeant said. "We wanted to go and give blood and see if there's anything we can do." He shook his head. "I've given blood too many times for too many cops."

"I feel like that too," the younger cop said. "And I haven't been on the force that long."

Ross' cell phone rang. Flipping it open, he saw the Chief of Detective's number displayed. The Captain thought for a moment, and then punched the "Ignore" button. Ross had left his lieutenants in charge of the scene, giving one of them specific instructions to give updates to the Brass, including the Chief. The Chief could talk to him, and probably had. At the moment, Ross was ill inclined to indulge the Chief's micromanaging and attempts at damage control. The Captain knew everything was under control. The CSU guys were in charge at the scene. Caldwell was at the same hospital as Goren. Thomas Linley was in the not so gentle hands of other Major Case Squad detectives. The irony that the likely dying if not already dead Caldwell was at the same hospital as Goren didn't escape Ross. "At least it's convenient," he thought. He felt some guilt at leaving Wheeler at the scene, but he knew the Internal Affairs officer who arrived to investigate the shooting. "Don't worry," the IAB man told Ross and Wheeler. "It's a good shoot." Ross knew that, but he also knew it was Wheeler's first shooting.

"We're here, Captain." The sergeant's voice broke in on Ross' thoughts. "We'll drop you off and go park."

"Let us know how the detective is," the younger cop said.

"I will," Ross said as he opened the car door. "Thanks for the ride." He turned, took a deep breath, and walked through the emergency room entrance.

It was the middle of a Thursday afternoon, and Ross guessed that was why the room was so quiet. He showed his badge to a sympathetic receptionist, who pointed him to the waiting room around a corner.

"There's already been several police officers here," she said. "They've all headed off to give blood. I'm sorry…I don't know how the detective is."

Ross entered the waiting room and saw Alex Eames sitting on the edge of a chair. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. With a start, Ross realized there were scarlet spots and streaks on her clothes. He took another deep breath, and walked towards her.

"Alex…"

She looked up at him desperately, and Ross remembered seeing the same sort of look in Bobby Goren's eyes when he and Ross waited to see Alex in the hospital after her kidnapping.

"Captain," she said shakily and started to stand.

"It's all right, Alex," Ross said as he sat across from her. "Have you heard anything?"

Alex leaned back. "No…One of the nurses…He said he'd never seen anyone…" Alex rubbed her eyes. "Oh, Captain…" She struggled not to break down. Ross leaned forward.

"Oh, God," Alex thought. "Please…Please don't let him try to comfort me…I'll fall apart…And I can't fall apart…"

"Alex," Ross said gently. "You're exhausted…You haven't really slept in…How many days? You haven't really eaten. And you've been worried…And that word doesn't begin to cover it…You don't have to…"

"Yes…Yes…I do," Alex said when she could trust her voice. "At least until I know he's going to be ok…"

Cops in blue and detectives in suits and street clothes began to fill the waiting room. One Major Case sergeant who always gave Bobby and Alex a tough time carefully approached Alex and Ross. Bobby liked him because he treated Bobby exactly as he did every other cop.

"Detective Eames…Captain…How's the big guy doing?" The sergeant turned his caps in his hands.

"We don't know yet," Ross said, his attention focused on Alex.

"Well…A lot of Major Case is here…Some giving blood…and we'll be going back after that…But we'd really appreciate knowing how he's doing."

Alex fought down the lump that formed in her throat. "He…He'll be grateful that people care…"

The sergeant shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Well…A lot of us owe him…And not just for all the times he's taken shifts…He makes us all look good…We're organizing a watch for him."

"Good," Ross said. "Sign me up for a shift."

"Will do…Don't worry, Detective Eames. He'll be ok. He's tough. He's strong."

"Thank you," Alex said softly. She waited until the sergeant was out of earshot before she spoke again.

"The problem is, Bobby's not that tough. He's strong, but I don't know if anyone is strong enough to…"

"He won't face this alone, Alex," Ross declared. "We'll help him."

"How?" Alex spoke to herself as much as to Ross. "How can we help him after all of this? After what they did to him? After what we did to him?"

Ross leaned closer to her. "I…I don't know…But I'll find someone who can help us…"

The Captain's cell phone rang. "Damn!" Ross muttered. He checked his phone and growled, "He can wait…"

"Who?" Alex asked.

"The Chief of D's…"

"Captain…If that two-faced SOB gets anywhere near Bobby…I don't care if I wind up directing traffic in Staten Island…"

"If the Chief gets near Goren, I'll be on that corner with you," Ross said. "I think I'm going to let the Chief deal with the FBI on this…"

"That's cruel, Captain. Even for the Chief and the FBI."

"Ms. Eames…"

Alex and Ross looked up at a young Hispanic woman carrying a clipboard.

"Yes," Alex said warily.

"We've got Mr. Goren stabilized. He's being moved to surgery…"

"How is he?" Alex asked, and her heart stopped when the woman hesitated.

"I have to be honest," she said gently. "We've rarely seen anyone with so many different injuries. He's dehydrated and hasn't had food in a long time. He's lost a lot of blood. He has some internal injuries, which is why he needs surgery. And all of the different drugs in his system…"

"Can we see him?" Alex asked, desperate to end the litany of Bobby's wounds.

"For a moment," the woman said. "Just follow me. You can both come…"

Ross and Alex followed the woman past several cubicles to the largest of the treatment rooms.

"He's semiconscious," the woman said. "And he's been asking for you."

Bobby lay on his left side. Tubes snaked in and out of his arms and under the sheet that covered him. His skin looked paler than the white bandages that covered his wrists. His great dark eyes shone from the dark hallows around them.

"Bobby," Alex said softly.

He blinked and tried to reach out to her with his left hand. Alex gently took his hand. His lips moved, but no sound came from them.

"It's all right," she said. "I'm real…I promise you I'm real."

A nurse entered the room, and Bobby stiffened. His eyes widened with fear.

"Bobby…She's here to help. All of the people here are here to help you." Alex spoke as clearly and calmly as she could. Her words seemed to help him.

"We need to take him up now," the nurse said gently. "We'll take good care of him."

"Bobby." Alex brushed his curls with her hand. "These are good people. You can trust them. I'll be waiting for you."

Bobby swallowed. "I…I'm sorry…" His voice was barely a whisper. "That you have to take care of me."

"I don't mind. Remember our deal…I'll forgive you…But you gotta fight…Stay alive…"

Bobby blinked.

The nurse injected a drug into one of the many IV's in Bobby's body. "He'll be out soon…"

Alex held his hand until his eyes finally closed.

END CHAPTER FOURTEEN


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Ross hovered behind Alex as they returned to the waiting room. Alex sensed that this was one part of his job that Ross wasn't either good at or used to doing. She remembered that Captain Deakins was a master at comforting cops and their families even though he hated that aspect of his position, and for a moment she hated Ross and the NYPD. "He's trying," she thought. "He's trying." She calmed.

"Is there anyone I should contact for Goren?" Ross asked as he started to open the waiting room door for Alex.

"No," Alex said sadly. "I can't think of anyone…I can call his buddy Lewis…but aside from him…"

"He's a better man than that," Ross said. "He deserves…" He looked at Alex. "Do you need anything…anyone…Alex…"

"Bobby," Alex thought. "I need Bobby…"

"Maybe a change of clothes," she said out loud. "And some coffee."

"I'll see about both of those," Ross promised. "Alex…I think Goren is…Is going to need a lot of help…And not just physically…Although that's bad enough…"

"And that's if Bobby survives," Alex thought. "Oh God…Please…"

"Inside his head," Ross said carefully. "I know that he's strong…Stronger than most people…But this…"

"I know," Alex said. "And right when he was coming back…He really was, Captain…You know that…"

"I know, Alex…I know…The thing is…This is way out of my league…But I think I know someone who can help him…If I'm not intruding…"

"Captain…Right now…Bobby needs all the help he can get," Alex answered.

"Uh…Captain…"

Alex and Ross looked up to see two Major Case detectives approaching. Their arms bore the rolled up sleeves and band aids of the recent blood donor.

"We got here as soon as we could," one apologized. "But we wanted to stop and give blood first."

"There's more coming from Major Case," the second said. "A lot of them are giving or waiting to give blood. There's a lot of cops giving blood."

"How you doing, Alex?" the first detective asked.

"I'll feel a lot better when I know Bobby's ok," Alex said. She was enormously grateful for the responses of the other cops.

The second detective sat across from Alex. "The big guy will be ok. He's tough…He's tougher…" The man shook his head. "He'll be ok…"

"Quit while you're ahead, Torelli," Ross said kingly. He stood. "I've got to go…I'll be back as soon as I can…"

"We'll take care of her, Captain," Torelli said. .

"Start by getting her some coffee," Ross answered. "Do you have a change of clothes at the Squad?"

Alex nodded.

"I'll get them to you." Ross placed a hand on Alex's shoulder. "He'll be all right. He knows I need him to keep me honest."

Cops, showing signs of a stop at the blood bank, slowly filled the waiting room. Torelli brought Alex the first of many cups of coffee. Donuts and sandwiches appeared. Alex didn't touch the food; her stomach churned at the thought of it. All of the cops made reassuring sounds that might have comforted Alex if she hadn't made those same sounds in similar circumstances or if she hadn't heard the same sounds the night of Joe's death. Whenever a figure remotely resembling a nurse or doctor appeared, the assembled cops swarmed over it trying to find out anything about Bobby.

"We're scaring them," Alex said to one cop. She rubbed her eyes. "I just wish someone would tell us something."

After several hours, an impossibly young looking woman in surgical scrubs walked through the waiting room door. "I guess many of you are waiting for news about Detective Goren," she said calmly.

Every head spun to face her.

"Or maybe all of you…I'm looking for Alex Eames…"

Every head spun to face Alex, who suddenly felt as if she couldn't trust her legs to support her. She stood shakily. "That's me," she said.

The crowd cleared a path so that Alex and the doctor could meet each other.

"I'm Dr. Wasson…One of the surgeons who worked on Mr. Goren…"

"One?" Alex thought. "How many did it take?"

"He's stable right now," the doctor continued calmly. "He's badly hurt in many ways, but he came through the surgery very well."

The tension in the waiting room eased considerably, but Alex knew nothing was that simple.

"Can we see him?" Alex asked.

"One at a time," the doctor explained. "He's being moved to critical care, which isn't as frightening as it sounds. We went to keep a very close eye on him. I understand he doesn't have a family."

"Yea, he does," a voice from the back of the room declared. "He's got the whole NYPD."

"If only that were true," Alex thought. "But at least he's got the guys here." She turned towards the source of the voice. "Thank you," she said. "It would be really great if you let him know that when he…he gets better."

"I can take you to him," Dr. Wasson said.

"Don't worry, Alex," Torelli said. "We'll let Ross and the rest of the Squad know."

"Thank you," Alex said softly and followed the doctor.

"We have him in a medically induced coma," Dr. Wasson explained as they walked past a nurses' station. "It'll help while his body gets rid of all the other drugs in his system. It'll help him get through the worst of the pain, and his body heal. It also gives us time to get a plan together to deal with all of his injuries." She paused in front of a room. "I don't think I have to warn you that this is the start of a very long and very hard road for Mr. Goren."

Alex swallowed.

"Mr. Gore is on a lot of monitors and other machines, including a ventilator. I just want to warn you," Dr. Wasson said.

Alex tried to prepare herself, the sight of Bobby shocked her. Surrounded by machines, he looked like some horrible robot. Dr. Wasson pulled up a plastic chair.

"You can stay for a while," she said gently. "Talk to him…Touch him…Let him know that you're here. Even patients in deep comas are often aware of their surroundings."

Alex, unable for a moment to speak, nodded and perched on the chair. She forgot Dr. Wasson before the doctor left her alone with Bobby. His arms were covered in bandages, and above the sheet that covered him, Alex saw more white bandages on his chest and shoulders. "They didn't touch his face and head," she thought. His eyes were closed with strips of tape, and the terrible snake of the ventilator curled into his mouth. Tubes and wires were everywhere, and several machines beeped and hummed in an erratic symphony. Alex placed the back of her right hand against Bobby's cheek. The graying stubble was soft against her skin. In contrast to his terribly pale color, Bobby felt warm and alive.

"Bobby," Alex whispered. "You're keeping up your end of the bargain. You're staying alive. I forgive you…But…But…If you…If you die…I'll never forgive you…I'll never forgive myself…"

END CHAPTER FIFTEEN


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Alex spent most of the next days by Bobby's bedside. It took the combined efforts of Captain Ross, her father, two of her brothers, and, finally, a Megan Wheeler comment that Alex's collapse certainly wouldn't help Bobby to get Alex to leave Bobby's side long enough for her to get a shower, a change of clothes, and some food. It was another day before the hospital staff convinced Alex that Bobby would be in the coma for some time and they would call her immediately if there was any change in his condition. Alex staggered to her home and managed to reach her couch before she collapsed. She lurched back to the hospital after several hours of desperately needed sleep to find Bobby's condition unchanged. After that, Alex occasionally left the hospital to at least fall on her own bed and pretend to sleep. But she spent most of her time by Bobby's side. Reassured by the steady rise and fall of his chest, she mindlessly watched TV or read. She brought every newspaper and magazine she thought might interest Bobby and read them out loud to him. When she couldn't stand the scientific or historical or psychological material any longer, Alex began reading from the gossip magazines she bought for herself. "You want me to stop reading this stuff, Goren," she muttered to Bobby at one point. "You wake up and tell me to shut up."

"The Yankees are lousy this year," she told him on another morning. "The pitching is awful. You gotta wake up and give me grief about this."

She got to know the nurses. One appeared every hour in Bobby's room. The doctors also frequently appeared. She liked Dr. Wasson best, but all of the doctors were kind, efficient, and considerably more than competent. The doctors and nurses all seemed to like Alex and Bobby.

"You got a tough job, Detective," one of the nurses commented.

"So do you," Alex replied.

"It's not always easy," the nurse admitted. "But most of our patients get better…And we're going to make sure Detective Goren is going to be one of those…"

Others occasionally spelled Alex. Her family came, her brothers awkward, her sisters steady, and her father tough and concerned. Her father gently suggested that Alex might want to consider how much she wanted and could do for Bobby.

"He's my friend, Dad," she said. "He's my partner. He doesn't have anyone. I gotta help him."

"All right," her father said, and the subject of Alex helping Bobby never rose again among her family.

James Deakins appeared several times. He hugged Alex and said all the right things, but he also grew white when he saw Bobby and when Alex explained some of the things that had happened to him.

"He's one of the toughest and smartest men I know," Deakins said. "But…" He shook his head.

"I know," Alex said. They both studied Bobby. The rise and fall of his chest, in spite of being produced by a machine, was an oddly reassuring sight. "Thank you," she said. "For not pretending everything is ok…That he'll survive this…"

Deakins placed his hands on her shoulders. "I don't think pretending this isn't going to be very hard would be very helpful."

And, for the first time since Caldwell and Linley had taken Bobby, Alex allowed herself to cry. She fell against her former Captain and sobbed into his soft jacket. When she recovered, Alex found she leaned heavily against him.

"I…I'm sorry…I…I'm ruining your jacket…" She tried to pull away, but Deakins guided her to the chair by Bobby's bed.

"It's all right," he said. "I can get it cleaned."

"Well," Alex said, wiping her eyes. "At least send me the bill."

"I think…You needed that," Deakins said cautiously.

"Yea…I think I did." Alex pulled a tissue from the box on the table next to Bobby's bed. "And I guess I felt safe with you…"

Deakins smiled sadly. "I'm honored." He turned and studied Bobby for a moment. "Danny Ross," he said deliberately. "Doesn't know quite how to deal with this. He feels terrible…especially since he and Bobby got off on the wrong foot with each other."

Alex sighed. "Well…They both kept trying to lead…"

"Just remember," Deakins said. "It took me two years to trust him, Alex…And I never came close to figuring him out. He's just too far from what I was used to. Just know that Ross wants to help Bobby and you. He may not always express it in the most subtle or clearest way, but he does want to help."

"Ok," Alex said.

Ross appeared every day, even if he didn't know what to do and was often visibly tired. Alex knew from other cops that the Captain was fending off the FBI, the Chief of Detectives, other police agencies eager to interview Linley, and the press. She knew the last group heralded Bobby as a hero. The nurses told her about the cards, notes, and flowers that arrived daily. Ross was with Alex during one of these reports, and her sad smile when the nurse left intrigued him.

"What is it, Alex?"

"Just…" She shrugged. "You know Bobby's reputation…He hasn't always been a darling of the press…Any more than he's been a darling of the Brass…And now he's in a hospital bed with a machine breathing for him…And he's the golden boy…"

Ross stood silently.

"It's ok, Captain," Alex said. "I'm not sure there's anything to say about that."

Megan Wheeler was one of the most frequent and welcome visitors. She never arrived empty-handed, always carrying some coffee or snacks or books and magazines. She brought news from the outside world—she was the source of much of the information about Ross' efforts to shield Alex and Bobby. Alex liked Wheeler, but they had never had the opportunity to become close. Now, over coffee in the waiting room or bland lunches in the hospital cafeteria, they came to regard each other as friends.

"Thank you," Alex said one morning as she accepted a complicated coffee concoction from Wheeler. "For this…and everything…"

Wheeler smiled sadly. "You're welcome…Truth is…I'm on desk duty for while…They're making me talk to a shrink…Coming here…Well, it helps. And you and Goren…You've been good to me…"

"He appreciates the way you help him with the copier," Alex said.

Wheeler laughed. "God…He has so much trouble with machines…"

"I know." Alex sipped her coffee. "You ok?"

"Yea…I think so…If people would just stop asking me if I'm ok…"

"I know…I've been there," Alex said.

"You…You don't get used to it," Wheeler said after a moment.

"No…No you don't…And I don't think you should," Alex answered.

"I don't feel bad about shooting him," Wheeler said slowly. "I mean…I never want to shoot anyone…But he's a bad man…He was going to…To at least hurt…and probably kill Goren…He killed and tortured that poor girl…I'd do it again…What scares me…Is what would've happened if I'd missed…If I hadn't moved fast enough…"

Alex leaned forward and placed her hand over Wheeler's. "But you didn't miss…And you did move fast enough. You had the best shot, and you took it. You did the right thing."

Wheeler swallowed. "Thank you," she said softly. "Thanks…That means a lot…Especially coming from you…"

All of these small dramas took backstage to Bobby's recovery, or at least what the doctors and nurses assured Alex was Bobby's recovery. The process of slowly weaning Bobby from the drugs keeping in a coma began on his third day in the hospital. As the drugs' grips on him lessened, Bobby showed signs of being in pain. The doctors told her he didn't feel that much, but the nurses had a different take.

"He's feeling pain," one nurse told Alex. "But from what other patients have told me, it's not that bad. And he's really not aware of it. You need to remember that pain is one of the most basic responses of our brains. Unfortunately, it's one of the first things Mr. Goren will feel as he comes out of the coma."

On Bobby's fourth day in the hospital, Ross arrived and hesitantly asked Alex to join him in the waiting room.

"I told you that I'd try to find someone who could help," he said tentatively. "And I think I found someone who can…Someone who's close to us…"

Through the waiting room doors, Alex saw Dr. George Huang seated and studying a thick file.

"Makes sense," she said softly.

Tension left Ross' body. "Don Cragen, the SVU chief, says he's the best. He's already familiar with the Sebastian cases. He knows a little about Goren. He's worked with him, and he respects him. I think Goren respects him…"

"He does," Alex said.

"And Huang has experience dealing with the victims of…of torture…" Ross also looked through the window. "It made sense to me."

Alex nodded. She walked through the door.

Alex already liked George Huang. She liked him even more after he suggested several ideas for Bobby's care.

"I've talked with his doctors here," Huang said. "They're very optimistic about his physical injuries. What they…and I…are very concerned about is his mental health."

Alex nodded.

"Bellevue has an excellent center that treats torture victims," Huang continued. "I know and have worked with several people on its staff…They…and I…think it might be a good place for Detective Goren when he's physically ready."

Alex turned to Ross, who shook his head. "I'm sorry, Alex," he said softly. "I'm way out of my league here…But this sounds good…"

Alex sighed. "Ok," she said. "I'm going to have to trust you on this, Doctor."

"You can," Huang said firmly. He shut the file and stood. "I'll contact the center and let them know."

Alex returned to her vigil. On Bobby's sixth day in the hospital, the doctors removed the tape from his eyes.

"We'll see how he is tomorrow," one said. "And see about removing the ventilator."

Alex read most of four newspapers to Bobby while she drank her coffee. She'd read him about half of the current NEW YORKER before the nurses gently hustled her to the cafeteria for lunch. After lunch, Megan Wheeler kept Alex company for an hour, and they talked of things that didn't matter. When Wheeler left, Alex turned on the TV and found a Yankees game in progress. The game wasn't particularly exciting, and Alex hadn't slept particularly well the previous night. She dozed off.

Beeps and buzzes and a choked cry woke her. Alex bolted up in her chair and saw Bobby, his brown eyes wide with terror, shaking violently on the bed. She heard nurses and doctors coming.

"Bobby…Bobby…" She touched his face. "Please calm down…Listen to me…"

He turned to her. The look in his eyes suggested that he wasn't sure she was real.

"Bobby…You're safe…You're in the hospital…I'm real…Trust me…"

A wave of doctors and nurses rushed in the room. Alex refused to move.

"Bobby…Don't be afraid…These are doctors and nurses…You can trust them…They're here to help you…Believe me…"

He calmed slightly at her words.

"Now," Alex continued. "You're on a ventilator to help you breath. The doctors and nurses are going to help you…Probably take it out…I need to get out of their way…I'll be right over here…And I'll be right back when they're done…Ok?"

He stared at her with his great, dark, frightened eyes. He nodded. Alex stepped away from his bed, and the doctors and nurses descended on him. She occasionally glimpsed his face through the forest of blue, white, and green scrubs. He was terrified but winning the battle to control himself. It was a very long time before the doctors and nurses stepped away from his bed, and before they did, Bobby cried out in pain and fear several times. Each time Alex fought to keep from rushing to his side. All of the doctors and nurses made gentle, reassuring sounds as they left. Alex scarcely heard them. All of her attention was on Bobby.

Finally, only one nurse remained. She adjusted and checked all of Bobby's IVs and monitors. There were still many of them, but far fewer than when he first regained consciousness. She carefully injected something into one of the IVs, and then smiled at Alex.

"I've given him something strong for the pain," she whispered. "He'll probably go back to sleep soon. Just waking up has taken a lot from him…But this is very good."

She turned to Bobby. "Don't fight sleep, Mr. Goren. We'll take good care of you…"

Alex stepped close to the bed as the nurse left. Bobby blinked at her. She touched his face. He struggled to speak.

"Are…are you real?"

She fought against the lump in her throat. "Yea…I'm real…"

"I…I'm not…I'm not there?"

"No." She shook her head.

His eyes closed, and she thought he might be asleep. They opened again.

"Al…Alex…"

"Yea, Bobby…"

"The…daffodils…Are they still blooming?"

She tried not to choke. "Yes, Bobby…Yes…"

"Good…Good…Thank you…"

He drifted into sleep. Alex dropped her head on her outstretched arms and buried her tears in the sheets.

END CHAPTER SIXTEEN


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Bobby was lost in a wonderful oblivion. He didn't have to do anything but exist. He didn't have to think. He didn't have to move. He didn't have to breathe. He thought he heard Alex's voice coming from far away. It was warm and gentle, and Bobby wanted to find its source, but he was horribly tired and weak. He couldn't move towards it. The pain began to prick at the edges of his mind. It grew, and it seemed to come from all over his body. As the pain increased, so did his awareness of other things, including Alex's voice, and this made the pain worth bearing. Bobby wondered if all of his thoughts were hallucinations, and if Linley and Caldwell still held him. Time didn't exist for him, and the thought came to him that he was in some strange Purgatory where there was pain but also hope. His consciousness returned slowly until it exploded. Bobby was suddenly and terribly awake, and he wondered if he'd been moved to Hell. He was gagged and restrained. He was in pain, and bright lights filled his eyes.

"They still have me," he thought. "They still have me…And they're going to cut me up and send the pieces to Alex…"

He struggled and heard Alex's voice. "Oh, God…No! No! They got Alex…No!"

He began to listen to her voice, which was calm and gentle. Bobby turned to look at her. She brushed his cheek, and her touch comforted him. He stopped struggling. The nurses and doctors' arrivals scared him, but he listened to Alex and trusted them. They removed the horrible tube from his mouth and treated him kindly and gently. They gave him cool, soothing water and made sure he was warm. As they worked, Bobby saw Alex watching him intently, and her presence helped him fight his panic.

"I'm going to give you something to help with the pain, Mr. Goren," the last nurse told him. "You'll probably fall asleep again soon. That's good. Sleep is one of the best things for you right now." She adjusted the IV and smiled at him.

"She's not one of them," he thought. "She's kind…She calls me by my name…She's not one of them…"

"I'll let Ms. Eames talk to you now," the nurse said. "When you're ready we'll try to get some liquids inside of you." She smiled again at him and left.

Alex stepped up to his bed and placed her hand against his cheek. The drug started to numb his mind and body, and Bobby felt exhausted. Something nagged at his mind, and he mumbled his request for information about the daffodils. The request puzzled Alex, but Bobby fell asleep with the knowledge he might see the flowers again.

When he woke up again some twenty hours later, Bobby wasn't sure where he was. "Calm down," he thought." You're warm…You're safe…You're not tied down…You're not gagged…" He shifted on the bed and winced at the resulting pain. He turned his head and saw a riot of yellow flowers in a vase on the table by his bed.

"Hey…You awake?"

Alex face loomed over him.

"Uh…yea…" His voice was raspy and very soft. It took him a great effort to speak.

"You thirsty?" Alex's voice was very soft, and Bobby thought she seemed to be apologizing for something.

"Or she's ashamed," he thought. "Ashamed of me…"

"Bobby…Are you with me?" He felt her hand against his cheek. He wanted and didn't want her touch.

"Uh…Yea…Please…Could I have some water?"

"Sure." Alex poured a cup of water, slipped a straw in the cup, and lifted it to Bobby. He lifted his head and sipped it. It was cool and wonderful, and he drank until the muscles in his neck couldn't hold up his head.

"Thank you," he said. The rasp was gone from his voice, but it was still very weak.

"There's more if you need it," Alex said.

Bobby stared at the daffodils. "Thank you…for these…"

"Well, the room needed some cheering up." Alex smiled. "You want anything else? You can't have solid food for a while, but the nurses say they make good smoothies."

"Uh…no…Eames…I…I'm so sorry…"

Alex could barely hear him. "Bobby…What…You've already apologized to me…Although I'm not entirely sure what for…You're a hero right now…" She smiled. "Although I think you're a hero most of the time."

Bobby blinked and stared at her. "A…a hero? Me? I…I got caught…" His voice broke. "And…And…" He turned away from Alex.

Alex swallowed. Dr. Huang and several others warned her that Bobby's mind was wounded as much if not more than his body. It was still frightening and confusing to be faced with those wounds.

"Bobby," Alex said gently and firmly. "You did the right thing. You saved a young woman. You stayed alive. You fought them every way that you could. You saved yourself."

Bobby stared at his wrists and arms. They were heavily bandaged, and IVs snaked out of them. "I…I can't even move…"

"It'll get better. You're already starting to heal. I…I know…"

It cost a great deal for Alex to refer to her ordeal at Jo Gage's hands. She and Bobby had barely discussed it, just as they had barely discussed his time in Tates. After her escape and release from the hospital, Bobby made sure that Alex made it to her counseling sessions, even escorting her to and from them. When she suffered nightmares and weakened to the point where she had to have someone, Bobby immediately responded to her calls. She'd lost count of how many times he'd slept on her couch, his long legs dangling over its end. During her worst nights, he'd sat up all night in the old chair next to her bed, and, once or twice, during really awful nights, Bobby sat next to her in the bed and held her until she fell asleep. By the time Bobby's life overwhelmed him, Alex was fortunately well on the road to recovery. As open as Bobby was in helping her, he closed himself off from her and everyone else as his troubles mounted and swept over him. After his suspension, Alex and Bobby slowly and tentatively rebuilt their partnership and friendship, but there remained forbidden areas. Dr. Huang warned Alex that Bobby's resistance to revealing any of his emotional life might be greater than ever, and that in order to overcome that resistance, Alex might have to lower her own defenses.

"Ok," Alex thought. "I guess it's time to find out how low I can get my walls down…"

Bobby lay back on his pillows. "I…I…Eames…Do you…Do you know…What they did to me?"

Alex desperately wanted to wrap her arms around him, but she knew that would only cause Bobby great physical and emotional pain. "Yes."

"I…I…Please…I…Can't…Not now…I just can't…" She could barely hear his voice. She pushed the call button for the nurse.

"It's ok," she said softly, deciding that a strategic retreat was the best move at the moment. "We can talk about it later…Don't worry…"

"I…I'm so tired…It hurts…So much…"

Two nurses entered the room. Alex rose and moved out of their way as they helped Bobby. He couldn't look at her.

END CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


	18. Chapter 18

My apologies for the delay in updating this one.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

As hard as it had been to wait for Bobby to emerge from the darkness, the days after his awakening were even harder. He couldn't look anyone directly in the face. He could scarcely speak more than a sentence to anyone. He wouldn't or couldn't ask for anything, and when Alex or the hospital staff or anyone brought him anything or asked if he needed anything he was heartbreakingly grateful. In spite of the nurses and doctors' gentle and constant prodding, he barely ate even after he was cleared for solid foods. Alex and others brought in some of his favorite foods, but Bobby nibbled at them, and Alex thought he did that only because he didn't want to disappoint anyone. He was in great pain, although he did a good job of hiding it most of the time. But the staff, especially the nurses, and Alex caught him wincing and groaning in pain several times when he thought no one was looking.

"You don't have to suffer," everyone told him. "We can give you painkillers. You won't become addicted."

But Bobby continued to resist taking the drugs. The doctors finally decided to have a regular regimen of painkillers injected into his IVs along with the antibiotics and nutrition that he received.

He suffered mentally as well as physically. He was constantly exhausted from fighting the pain and from a lack of sleep. He could sleep for only a couple of hours before a nightmare woke him, and it took him several hours to get back to sleep. He desperately needed the sleep, but the dreams terrified him. George Huang and other psychiatrists tried to speak with him, but Bobby, although always polite and gentle, shut down when faced with speaking about his ordeal.

"It's not so much that he won't talk about it," Huang told Alex. "He can't. But I think he knows he'll have to talk about it…He's too bright and well read and experienced not to know that. But he's terrified of revisiting it…And I can't blame him for that."

"I can't either," Alex said softly. "Especially…" She looked at Huang. "You know…Something about what happened to me…"

"A little…The NYPD isn't a place for something like that to go unnoticed."

"I…I avoided facing up to it…As much as I could…And what happened to Bobby is much worse…"

"Detective Eames," Huang said firmly but kindly. "This isn't some kind of competition about who got hurt more. You both had terrible experiences. It could mean that it could hurt you both. Or it could help you help each other."

"I…I don't know," Alex said. "I had a much more stable foundation. A family. A good childhood. Bobby…Bobby didn't have that…He was hurt so badly in so many ways long before this. He survived…He even thrived…But this is so much…"

Huang nodded. "I've gotten some idea of that…It's going to take a lot of time and it isn't going to be easy. And it's not going to be one explosion and things get back to normal…It's going to be a lot of two steps forward and one step back."

Alex squared her shoulders. "I'm in it for the long run. He's my partner. My friend. And I wasn't raised to quit."

Huang smiled. "Well…I'd like to transfer him to the unit that deals with torture victims at Bellevue."

"That may be hard. Bobby may only hear Bellevue," Alex said. "He may think he's lost his mind. You're sure this is a good place for him?"

"Yes," Huang said. "Unfortunately, there are few places that specialize in the treatment of the survivors of serial killers. This comes the closest."

As the days passed, it was clear that Bobby's mental health was not improving as well as his physical health, which itself remained shaky. He tried to hide his feelings as well as his physical pain, but his turmoil occasional bubbled to the surface. He hated to be touched, especially by men. The doctors and nurses recognized this and approached him carefully, but even with the gentlest of care Bobby froze during some procedures. If a doctor or nurse didn't approach him with care—and sometimes even if her or she did—the results could be terrible. Alex—whose life had become a cycle of sleep, work, hospital—arrived at Bobby's room one morning to discover a huddle of doctors and nurses outside it. From inside the room she heard garbled, frightened cries. Alex pushed through the forest of green, blue and white and into the room.

The room looked as if a small tornado had swept through it. Alex didn't see Bobby in the bed, and her heart leaped into her throat. She saw Huang and a woman and another man in hospital whites standing at the side of the bed away from the door. The trio looked alarmed, and Alex strode quickly to join them.

"Detective Eames," Huang said with relief. "Detective Goren is very upset…"

"Alex!" Bobby plaintively cried. "Please…Please help me!"

Alex started forward, but Huang gently stopped her.

"We came to talk about his possible transfer to the Bellevue unit," Huang explained in a whisper. "And…to put it mildly…he didn't take it well."

"You should've waited for me," Alex said.

"Yes, we should have," Huang agreed. "We made a mistake, and he isn't listening to us. But he trusts you, and I hope you can talk to him."

Bobby heard Alex's voice and cried out. "Alex…Alex…Please…Help me…Please…Don't let them…Please…Help me…"

Alex moved around the corner of the bed. She gave a small cry when she saw Bobby, wearing a hospital gown too small for him, jammed into a small space between the bed, the wall, and some cabinets. He was curled up as tightly as he could manage with his knees pressed against his chest. His hair spiked wildly in every direction, and IV tubes hung from his body. Red splashes and dots spotted the white sheets and Bobby's gown. He stared wild-eyed at her, but Alex saw that he began calming when he saw her.

"Could you give us a few minutes?" Alex asked. She was pleased that she did a good job of hiding her fear and pain.

One of Huang's colleagues appeared to be on the edge of protesting, but Huang gently silenced her. "Of course, Detective Eames. Just let us know if you need anything. We'll be right outside the door." He gave Alex a reassuring look as he ushered the others out of the room and closed the door.

Alex stepped closer to Bobby, stepping when he stiffened and whimpered. She took a deep breath and crouched down.

"Hey," she said softly. "What happened?"

He shivered. She reached out her hand, but Bobby flinched and jerked away.

"Ok," Alex thought. "This isn't going to be easy."

She sat inches away from his feet and leaned against the cabinets.

"The doctors and nurses wanted you to be more physically active," she said. "But I don't think this is what they had in mind."

Bobby shivered, and Alex tried not to concentrate on the crimson stains on his gown and bandages.

"I mean," she continued. "This isn't the most comfortable place to sit…And you look cold…I'm going to talk them into letting me bring you some pajamas or T-shirts or something…"

She shifted so she was slightly closer to him. He stared at the floor in front of his feet.

"But you don't like pajamas all that much, do you? I've always liked them. You remember that cold day when I was late and you were picking me up for work? You tried not to laugh at my big flannel jammies with the puppies on them. You showed great will power…I know I looked funny, but they're warm and comfortable."

She moved again. Their bodies would touch if either of them moved. She saw more bright red marks on the back of Bobby's gown.

"Bobby…Please…Talk to me…There's only so much I can say about pajamas. I'm sure you can tell me about their entire history and what it means…"

"Eames…Please…" She could barely hear him.

"Yea, Bobby…" She tried not to show how thrilled she was that he responded to her.

"Please…Please…Don't let them take me there…"

She decided to meet him head-on. "To Bellevue…"

He nodded.

"Well," she said matter of factly. "I think if we're going to have an important discussion, we should get more comfortable."

She cautiously placed a hand on his arm. He shivered, but didn't pull away from her.

"If I help you," she asked. "Do you think you could get back in bed?"

"Maybe…" He still stared at the floor. "I…I don't remember how I got down here. I…I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

"No," Alex answered. She wondered how Bobby thought he was capable of hurting anyone when he could barely stand up. "Except maybe for yourself."

He slowly raised his head and fought to look at her. "I…I seem to have a talent for that, don't I?"

For a moment, Alex felt ridiculously triumphant. Bobby was talking. He was talking to her. And was trying to be funny.

"Yea…" She leaned so that her head almost touched his. "You sure do."

"I…I like to try to get back in bed…"

"Ok." Alex stood and stretched. "My back isn't as young as it was."

Bobby winced and hissed in pain as he uncurled. "I…I'm bleeding…Aren't I?"

"Some…"

"You…You…" He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. "Oh…Alex…I'm so sorry…You shouldn't have to…"

"Hey." Alex stood over him and tenderly brushed her fingers over the top of his head. "You're alive…and I get to do this…"

"But…But…I don't know…Alex…I don't know if I can do this…I…I…This may be too much…I…I don't know if I can get better…I…It's so hard…I…There are moments…I…I wish…I wish I'd died…"

Alex dropped to her knees next to him. "Bobby…Bobby…I couldn't…I don't know how I could've survived…if…"

The tears welled up in her eyes and the sobs rose in her throat. She desperately fought them. She'd managed to keep from breaking down all through Bobby's kidnapping and the early days of his recovery. She wasn't going to fall apart at the moment he needed her the most.

"Oh, Alex…" His arms tentatively and awkwardly slipped around her shoulders. "I didn't mean to…I'm so sorry…"

Alex struggled for control. "No…No…This is wrong…You're the one…No…No…"

Bobby gently pulled her closer. "It…It's not wrong…It just is…It's ok…Let go, Alex…Let go…You've got the right…"

"But…but you're the one who got hurt…"

"We both got hurt…And I wasn't much help to you." For the first time since he'd awakened in the hospital, Bobby looked into Alex's eyes when he spoke to her.

And suddenly they were in each other's arms and sobbing.

Alex recovered first, slowly becoming aware that she and Bobby clung to each other. Her hands felt damp, and, to her horror, she discovered the back of Bobby's gown was soaked with blood.

"Bobby." She struggled to keep her voice calm.

Bobby shook and clung to her.

"Bobby…You're bleeding…We need to get you some help. Please let me get up and get you some help."

It was the "Please" that reached him. He finally won the battle to stop crying. He wiped his face with his sleeve, and stared at the bloody results. "Oh…Alex…What have I done…"

"It's not your fault…Just…Let me get some help." She slowly pulled away from him and stood. "I'll be right back…I promise…"

In spite of brief battles with the doctors and nurses, Alex stayed by Bobby through the next hours while he was stitched back together. She held his hand as much as she could through the various procedures until the staff finished their work. They finally departed, leaving Bobby hooked up to various antibiotics, painkillers, and another pint of blood.

Dr. Huang stayed as the others left. "I'm sorry, Detective," he said. "We didn't mean to upset you…"

"It was my fault," Bobby said thickly. The drugs and his exhaustion dragged him toward sleep. "I…I wasn't thinking…Alex…Detective Eames…helped me think…"

"You always have a good affect on him," Huang said to Alex.

"He does that to me," Alex said, and smiled at Bobby.

"Both of you try to get some rest," Huang said. "I'll speak with you later."

"Ok…I'll be ready then," Bobby said sleepily. "Thank you."

Alex walked Huang to the door. By the time they reached it, Bobby was deeply asleep.

"It was too soon," Huang said. "I keep forgetting that Detective Goren may know more about psychology than I do. He's very good at hiding things."

"Yea," Alex sighed.

"There is a good side to this," Huang said.

"Good?" Alex spluttered. "He nearly pulled out all his stitches…He's exhausted…How could this be good?"

"A storm broke," Huang said patiently. "It's not the last, and it's not the worst, but a storm broke. He survived it, and now he knows he can survive them…And he knows he can trust you to ride them out with him. This was a big step in the right direction."

"I…I can see that…"

"If you need me, Detective…I'm here for you too," Huang said.

"Thank you," Alex said warmly. "I'll keep that in mind."

As Huang left, Alex turned and walked back to Bobby's bed. He was blessedly and deeply asleep. The pale light from the small lamp over his bed made his very white face seem almost translucent. For the first time in many days, nightmares didn't appear to be plaguing him. Alex sat in the chair next to his bed and took his hand.

"Ok," she whispered. "We got through one storm…We can face the others…Hang on, Bobby…Hang on…"

END CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


	19. Chapter 19

Here, at last, is an update to this story. I apologize for the delay. The new season and missing scenes plot bunnies diverted my attention.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

In the next weeks, Alex's real job became Bobby, although she was still part of the Major Case Squad. She was enormously grateful to Ross and for whatever he did to give her so much freedom. She spent much of her time at the hospital, fending off reporters, the Brass, serial killer groupies, lawyers, family members, the FBI, and psychiatrists and psychologists who wanted to interview the survivor of an infamous serial killer. Alex possessed some sympathy for the families desperate to learn if their daughters or wives or sisters or mothers had been one of Sebastian's victims. She had some reluctant understanding of the FBI agents who sought to solve cases, although that was tempered by her feeling that if the FBI had done its job Bobby wouldn't have suffered his ordeal. But Alex regarded all the others as blood sucking weasels.

"Although," she thought one morning as she sat by Bobby's bed. "Bobby would probably remind me that weasels don't suck blood. And didn't he tell me once that they were actually rather admirable creatures?" She looked at Bobby as he stirred restlessly. She missed his obscure bits of knowledge and wry sense of humor terribly. She wondered if she'd ever hear his gentle laugh again. She thought she'd be thrilled if Bobby would just look at her directly. He couldn't hold her gaze for more than a few seconds. Some days he refused to look at anyone, including her. In spite of the fact they sometimes spent hours together, he rarely spoke to her about anything, especially about the elephants circling his room.

His physical recovery, fortunately, was as fast as his mental one was slow. Its most troubling aspect was Bobby's refusal to take his painkillers regularly. He steadily stayed away from them until his pain and sleeplessness became overwhelming, and then he'd disappear into a drug induced haze. At least the torn and pulled muscles healed; the cuts and bruises and gashes and burns and his back and legs and feet slowly became less red and raw and ugly. He still felt the need to hide his badly scarred arms and hands beneath the covers whenever anyone entered his room. Alex occasionally wondered if one reason he couldn't speak was because his hands were muted. He seemed to trust some people—Alex, George Huang, a couple of the nurses—to some degree, but he rarely spoke even to them.

"We're going to move him to the special unit at Bellevue," Huang told Alex one day. "The staff here is very good, but they're not the specialists the Bellevue unit is."

Alex sighed. "I can't reach him…I don't know how…But if you can't reach him…What chance do I have?"

Huang smiled sadly. "Training and education aren't the only things you need to help someone," he said. "You have a connection with Detective Goren. You know him better than anyone. I'd put that up against a lot of paper certification."

"Thanks," Alex said softly. "You know we're going to have to approach him carefully about this move."

Huang nodded. "Yes…I've learned that lesson. But if you're around to support him, it'll help a great deal."

Bobby was quietly and disturbingly subservient when the subject of going to Bellevue came up.

"Whatever you think is best," he said in a flat voice.

"I would've felt better if he'd put up some kind of fight," Huang said when they left Bobby's room.

"Yea," Alex agreed. "But I'd feel better if he'd just respond to anything…And the way he uses the pain medication…"

"Because he won't take them?"

"Partly," Alex said. "But…When he finally does give in and take them…He seems to take them as much to just numb himself as to stop the physical pain…Bobby's always been so afraid of drugs…So afraid they'll slow his brain…Hurt his thinking…Now…I'm afraid this…He might not be able to…"

"He's also strong and resilient because of what he went through in his life," Huang said. "We have to hope that helps him."

The Bellevue Unit devoted to treating torture victims was a surprisingly cheery place in many ways, but its bright colors, gentle and sympathetic staff, and wounded but hopeful patients were lost on Bobby when he arrived there. He remained heartbreakingly polite and kind, and the staff loved him, but he scarcely responded beyond a gentle "Please" and "Thank you." He attended individual and group counseling sessions, but barely spoke in them.

"He might talk to you," Huang told Alex.

"I'm almost afraid he will," Alex answered.

She finally spoke with him on a beautiful early summer day. Bobby and many other patients were out on the lawns the patients and families were encouraged to use. Alex was happy to see Bobby outside, but it broke her heart to see him sitting by himself. He stared at a row of flowers as she approached him. Most were a spectacular blaze of colors, but some bore dead leaves and wilted petals.

"Hey," she said gently. "The flowers are nice."

"The daffodils have died," Bobby said.

Alex sat next to him. "But the others are alive…And they're beautiful."

A long silence followed. Alex struggled to find something to say to Bobby.

"I don't belong here."

Alex stared at him. "Bobby…You…You need help…It's nothing to be ashamed of. A terrible thing happened to you…"

He shook his head. "No…No…You don't understand…I know…I know something horrible happened to me. I was there."

Alex tried not to jerk at his words.

"That's not the reason," Bobby continued. "These other patients…" He waved one of his hands. "People…People like me…Police…Security agents…They…They hurt these people…Tortured them…How…How can I tell them I'm a victim…When people like me…Hurt them…Tortured them…Manipulated them…"

Alex stared at him. "Bobby," she said when she could finally speak. "You…You would never torture…Hurt…Anyone like that…And the people we deal with…They're not innocents…"

"How do we know that? How many Croydons do I have that I don't know about?"

Alex's head spun. "Bobby…Please…Croydon…He…He wasn't a good guy…And you didn't kill him…And…And think of all the people you've helped…The people you've saved…"

Bobby shook his head. "It…It doesn't matter…I've manipulated people…I've frightened them…"

"Robert Goren…" Alex moved closer to him on the bench. "You have never physically attacked a witness or a perp…"

Bobby fell back from her, and his hands flew to cover his eyes. "I…I can't tell them what I am…How can I tell them I'm the same thing that tortured and raped and killed them and their families and their friends? Who did terrible things? How can I tell them I'm a victim like them? I don't deserve to lick their feet…"

"Bobby…Bobby…You were tortured by a mad man…"

"I'm not even a good detective," Bobby muttered. "I let myself get kidnapped by a serial killer…"

"Robert Goren." Alex seized his arms. "You saved a woman…God knows how many women you saved…"

"My biological father was a serial killer," Bobby said. "The man I thought was my father was a manipulative bastard. My mother was out of her mind. My brother an addict. And my mentor…Maybe I deserve this…Maybe it was just…"

Alex pulled his hands away from Bobby's face. Bobby winced.

"Bobby…Please…You're the first person to say that no one…No one…Deserves anything like this…You…You are a good man..A brave man…You try to save everyone…Even if they…"

Bobby looked at her. Alex could barely hold his gaze. She'd never seen so much pain and anguish in anyone's eyes.

"Bobby," she managed. "You belong here. Not because you were weak. You were strong…You survived…Just like the other people here."

He shook violently, but couldn't pull his hands away from her. "You…You don't know…Alex…Alex…The only thing that kept me alive…Was…You…So I could tell you I was sorry…"

"Oh, Bobby…There's nothing to forgive…We've talked about that…I'm so glad you stayed alive…I'm honored that I was the reason…"

A choked cry came from him, and Bobby slid from the bench to the ground. Alex caught and held him. She saw a nurse rushing towards them, and she waved him away. The nurse stopped and anxiously stood several feet away.

Bobby shook so violently that Alex shook with him. "Let go," she whispered. "It's all right…I'm here…I've got you…"

"You…You know…You know that they…They raped me?" The words came in gasps.

Terror and hope filled Alex. Bobby hadn't spoken about any of the details of what Caldwell and Sebastian did to him. She was moved that Bobby was finally speaking to her, and terrified that she couldn't help him.

"Yes," she said softly.

"It…It wasn't the worst thing they did to me…I try…I try to forget…But I can't…I try to remember…I can't…And it gets…Alex…I…I don't know what to do…I don't know how…"

Sobs took him, and Alex wrapped her arms around him. She was dimly aware of nurses and orderlies surrounding her and Bobby and their offers of help, but they were lost in the sounds of Bobby's cries.

END CHAPTER NINETEEN


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

Bobby's hands shook as he pulled one end of the red tie through the loop. He sighed, and carefully finished tying the tie. He walked to his closet, pulled out the suit's jacket, and slipped it on. He walked into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. The image reflected back at him looked almost normal. The salt and pepper hair—still more pepper than salt—was neatly brushed and newly cut. The hollow cheeks were freshly shaved. The dark blue suit paired well with the pale blue shirt and the crimson tie. Only a closer look revealed the shirt and jacket hung loosely on his body, and his eyes were surrounded by deep, dark circles that spoke of sleepless nights. Bobby put on his sunglasses. With the glasses hiding his eyes, he looked professional, calm, and steady—everything he didn't feel. He took off the glasses and placed them in his inside suit pocket. He'd wear them as much as he could, and the rest of the time he'd avoid looking directly at anyone, a practice he was very close to perfecting.

He opened his medicine cabinet and studied its contents. It was going to be a long and difficult day, and he needed to plan accordingly. He opened the small tin box that previously held Altoids. He'd discovered it was the perfect place to hide his pills. It was small enough to slip into a pocket, but large enough to carry a good supply of medications. When he pulled it out and removed a pill from it, most people—even detectives and doctors—thought he was getting a mint. Bobby carefully examined the row of bottles on the shelves. He wished he knew exactly how this day was going to go, but Jack McCoy and the other prosecutors couldn't tell him when or how long he would be in front of the grand jury. He considered how much and what medication he should take. The oxycontin controlled the pain efficiently and didn't create too great a fog in his head, but it could make him too relaxed and comfortable. It wouldn't create the best impression if the prosecution's key witness against Thomas Linley and Mark Caldwell appeared before the grand jury in a state of bliss. Vicodin offered some of the same benefits, but Bobby had found that it upset his stomach if he hadn't ate enough, and these days he rarely ate enough. He strongly suspected this would be a day where he might not eat anything. But Alex was picking him up to take him to court, and she'd make sure he'd get something in his stomach, even if she had to force it inside of him.

He leaned on the sink. Alex, he thought, had to know, or at least have strong suspicions. She had to suspect that he got through the days and nights using a carefully calculated and procured combination of drugs and occasionally alcohol. He still suffered from some physical pain—enough that his requests for painkillers had some basis and conviction—but he was far past the point of telling himself that they were just for his body. They were for his head. He'd created an intricate and ingenious system of getting prescriptions from several doctors and a schedule of ingestion that hid his self-medication from everyone. Everyone, he thought, but Alex. She was too good and experienced of a detective, and she knew him too well, not to pick up on at least some of the signs. Every day he expected her to challenge him, to leave him. Every night that he went home and she was still his partner he said a prayer of thanksgiving just before he took the sleeping pill that gave him a few hours of unconsciousness. She was so much stronger than him. She hadn't required rescuing when she was taken. She'd escaped. But every time he was in trouble—even when he got himself in trouble—she'd rescued him.

He was back to work in a limited way. He was on desk duty, and concentrating on the Sebastian case. He was an expert, after all. Not only Declan Gage's protégé, but Sebastian's only known survivor, although there were many moments when he wondered if he'd really survived. At least his new nightmares had supplanted his ones of his time in Tates. His doctors told him that telling his story would help him. When Jack McCoy told him that he'd get to tell his story before the grand jury, the DA seemed pleased to offer Bobby the opportunity. Bobby had smiled wanly. He'd told his story so many times—to the Major Case and SVU detectives in charge of his case; to the FBI agents; to Dr. Huang and other doctors whose names her forgot as soon as the interviews ended; even, eventually, to some of the other patients at Bellevue—and he was tired of it. Aside from repeating his story, he followed Linley and Caldwell's paper trail and tried to find links between them and unsolved murders and disappearances. He had no direct contact with either man, although Bobby occasionally heard rumors suggesting Linley wanted to speak to him in exchange for information on some victims. If such a deal was in the works, Bobby knew nothing about it. He suspected Huang, Ross, and especially Eames were protecting him from such discussions, and a good deal more.

Bobby stared into the cabinet. Eames would arrive soon, and he had to pick out his supply before then. He decided to take one more of everything he thought he might need. If anyone did notice, he could blame the stress of the day. Whatever happened, he wouldn't have to face the gauntlet of curious looks and averted eyes he encountered every morning at Major Case. Ross tried to be kind to him. Bobby knew the Captain could have prevented him from working at all, and instead Ross went out of his way to be flexible. But Ross couldn't look at him directly. Even Alex, for all she did for him, avoided Bobby's eyes.

"They're ashamed of me," Bobby thought. "And others…If they know what happened to me…What must they think…"

He stared again at his reflection. Sometimes, usually around three thirty in the morning when the sleeping pills wore off, he wondered why he kept going, why he rose from nights of too little or no sleep to drag himself to a job where he faced so many terrors. Sometimes, usually around three forty in the morning, he wondered why he didn't answer the call of the pills in the cabinet or of his gun locked in the small, steel strongbox on the top of his bookshelf. That morning, as he lay staring at the ceiling and calculating the minutes until he could take another pill, he thought one reason was a desire for some justice for Linley/Sebastian's victims. With further thought, he concluded it was because the job gave at least some justification for his life. But he knew he came back and kept going back to work and stayed alive for Alex. In spite of his certainty that she was ashamed of him, she was the reason.

He said nothing about these thoughts to anyone. With his doctors, he projected—or at least hoped he projected—a cheerful resilience. He dazzled his surgeons, other doctors, nurses, psychiatrists, even other patients with his remarkable physical recovery and seeming mental comeback. He'd deceived the other patients at Bellevue by listening and commenting on their stories, doing so well that the psychiatrists commented on it. In the process, he'd managed to effectively turn the spotlight away from his condition. It helped in obtaining drugs. He reluctantly asked for them, telling each doctor he felt he was at the limits of what he could stand. It helped that at first he was extremely reluctant to take advantage of any drug, making his pleas ring true. Huang was the one doctor he thought he wasn't deceiving, and every day he expected the psychiatrist to confront him. He also feared the day that one or more of his doctors spoke too deeply about him to another. He knew that would destroy his carefully constructed delivery of his medications.

He had several backup plans ready. Some involved other doctors; some involved ties going back to his days in Narcotics. And there was always his gun. He had used those old ties two times to supplement his prescriptions. It was during one of those, as he stood shivering in an alley handing a roll of money to a small time dealer who owed him for a break, that Bobby knew he was in deep trouble. He was an addict, and even as his mind created excuses—some pretty good ones—it swatted them away. His only comfort was that he was at least a functioning addict.

He scored a lot on those two occasions, including some coke and heroin. He used these sparingly, so sparingly that considerable amounts were still locked away in that strongbox with his gun. The coke was a wonderful pain reliever, but he hated its high. It made everything too real. But the heroin—the heroin was heaven. It not only destroyed the pain, but it kept him from caring about the pain, or anything else. It wrapped him in a soft and warm blanket and took him away from the world. It was so wonderful that he used it only as a last, desperate measure when his only other option really did seem to be eating his gun.

"I'll bet," Bobby thought as he carefully and precisely filled the mint tin. "Tonight I'll need the strong stuff…" He looked at all of the pills for a moment. "No…I have to testify…If I don't, others will…And Alex…Alex would find me…I've got to get through this case…"

He closed the tin, made sure it was securely shut, and placed it in his pocket. "Some day," he thought. "It'll all fall apart…Someone will find out…You'll get caught…You'll take too much of the wrong thing…You'll mess up the schedule or a dose…Your liver will fall apart…Or you'll lose your mind…Then they'll all know…You're not any sort of hero…You're a hollow man…Please…Please…Let me get through the case…Please…Let me hurt Alex as little as possible…"

There was a knock on his door. He knew it was Alex, a few minutes early as usual. He straightened his tie, smoothed his hair, and squared his shoulders. He walked to the door.

END CHAPTER TWENTY

I decided not to go into details about Bobby's time at Bellevue and his getting back at work, all though I did have a couple of chapters on that. Also, my knowledge of drugs and their effects is limited to reading Wikipedia and two days taking generic Vicodin after getting my wisdom teeth out.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Alex stood in front of Bobby's door and took a deep breath. "Please," she thought. "Please help me to help him. Please let him let me help him." She knocked on the door.

Bobby opened the door before she finished knocking. "Hi," he said shyly and handed her a cup of coffee. As he did, he pushed through the door and shut it behind him.

Alex sipped the cell charging beverage. It was hot, strong and sweet, just the way she liked it. "Hey, you got something or someone in your place that you don't want me to know about?" She meant it as a joke, but Bobby jerked and nearly spilled his own coffee.

"Uh…No…No…" he mumbled as he turned away from her. "It's…It's a mess…We…We should hurry…"

"We've got plenty of time, Bobby," Alex said as she followed him to her car. "Even if you testify first…Which you won't…"

He was terribly quiet as she drove to the courthouse, not responding to any of her efforts to get him to talk. At one point, he stealthily reached into his pocket, pulled out a small tin box, opened it, and slipped something from it into his mouth.

"Mint?" Alex asked.

Bobby fumbled with the tin and nearly dropped it. Panic briefly swept his face.

"Wow," Alex said. "They must be strong…Could I have one?"

"Uh…Uh…That…That was the last one," Bobby said desperately. He slipped the tin back into his pocket, and Alex heard it rattle. She knew it wasn't empty, and from the look on Bobby's face she knew that she knew.

"You could put that tin in the trash," she said.

"I…I uh…I keep them…Put things in them," Bobby stuttered.

They were about to enter the courthouse's parking garage. "My sister likes to use them as pill boxes," Alex said.

Bobby jerked again. "Uh…Uh…Yea…They're good for that…And for paperclips…"

"You know, Bobby," Alex said softly and cautiously. "No one would blame you if you needed to take some painkillers…Or needed something to help you sleep…sometimes…"

He was quiet.

"You…You'd just need to be careful…" Alex continued. "I mean…Ross has and will do everything he can…But there's only so much he can do…And there's other cops to think of…"

A wave of guilt hit Bobby. "I didn't think," he thought. "I'm a danger…A danger to other cops…A danger to Alex…"

"If…If you need any help, Bobby," Alex said. "I'm here…Dr. Huang is here…There's a lot of people." She eased her car and turned to him. Bobby stared at the dashboard. Her hand hovered over his shoulder.

"I…I…" For a moment, Bobby considered confessing everything to her, but the possibility that it would drive her away was too horrible to contemplate. "I know," he said. "Right now…I…I just want to get through this…" He stepped out of the car.

The day went as badly as Alex feared and Bobby thought it would. It was nearly one before Bobby was called in front of the grand jury, and his testimony was interrupted by questions and motions. Alex saw that he watched the clock intently, and that at several points he pulled out the small tin and took something from it. He was eerily calm through everything—through the terrible wait, through the objections and recesses, and through the questions. In a flat, even tone he described what Caldwell and Linley did to him. Alex knew the details, but it hurt to hear him. Several of the grand jury members turned white as Bobby spoke, and one of the recesses resulted from a request from one juror. Bobby was the only person in the courtroom who wasn't appalled by his words. Even the defense attorneys seemed affected. But Bobby seemed to be in another place, and Alex, with increasing dread, sensed how he was getting there. During one of the recesses, she saw him furtively pull out the tin box and slip a yellow circle in his mouth.

"That," she thought. "Wasn't a mint."

And she knew. She'd suspected it, but hadn't allowed the thought to fully grow. Bobby was taking drugs. "Don't panic," she thought. "He's still in pain. He has nightmares. Maybe he's finally realized that he doesn't have to suffer. But…It's more than that…It's been more than that since he got out of the hospital. And you know it. And you haven't said anything or helped him…You know him too well. It's not just the physical pain…And he's probably taking too many…"

As the day dragged on, Bobby's mask cracked. He looked at his watch more frequently, and his answers, although still polite, became shorter and edged with frustration. When the court was finally adjourned, Bobby bolted from the courtroom. Ross, who'd arrived to catch the end of Bobby's testimony, offered to take Alex and Bobby for a bite to eat or a drink, but Alex, her eyes on a pacing Bobby, gently refused.

"I think Bobby needs to get home," she said softly.

Ross nodded. "I can understand that. It's remarkable how he's come back. I can't help but feel we let him down somehow…"

"I know…Every time I pick him up for work, I feel like I should apologize to him."

"Is he ok, Alex?"

"I…I don't know." Alex didn't exactly lie, but she wasn't telling the whole truth. "He's still got the most brilliant mind…He's one of the most honest cops…But I don't know if he's ok…And if I don't trust him…"

"Even behind a desk," Ross said. "He's a value to Major Case. His work with the FBI has been remarkable. He's been through a lot. Right now the Brass sees him as a golden boy, and I can and will protect him…"

"And let me babysit him," Alex said.

"I'm not sure I'd use that term," Ross said evenly.

"He…He is getting better," Alex said. "Dr. Huang and the other psychiatrists say so. Maybe he just needs more time." Her words failed to convince Alex, and she was sure they didn't entirely convince Ross.

"I think," Ross said as he looked at Bobby. "You should get him home before he wears a hole in the floor."

"Yes, Captain," Alex said. "And…thank you."

Bobby grew increasingly agitated as Alex drove him home. She suggested they stop for dinner, but Bobby snapped at her.

"I'm sorry," he said when he realized what he'd done. "It's…It's been a long day…"

"I think that's an understatement," Alex said gently.

"I…I just want to get home..I…" He gripped the dash so tightly that his knuckles grew white. Alex thought she could hear his muscles and nerves vibrate.

"I'll get you there as soon as I can," Alex promised.

As she drove, Alex chanced an occasional look at Bobby. He rubbed his head and curled in on himself. He caught one of her looks and smiled weakly.

"I hate traffic," he muttered.

"I'm not crazy about it," Alex answered.

The last surge of the day's traffic caused the trip to Bobby's house to be longer than usual. By the time they arrived, he was ready to jump out of the car, and Alex ready to join him. She parked carefully in the small space behind his garage.

"Thank you, Eames…For everything…You…You don't have to come in…" Bobby pushed the car door open.

Alex unbuckled her seatbelt.

"No…No…Eames…You've done more than enough…You…You do so much for me…" Bobby seemed on the edge of tears.

"Bobby…Let me help you…"

He struggled and managed to control himself.

"No…I…I'll be ok..Really…I'm grateful…But I'll be ok…"

"Bobby…You've been through so much…You shouldn't be alone…"

"Eames…Please…Please…I…" He stood by her car and rubbed the back of his neck. "I…I promise you…I'll call you later…I…I just…I appreciate it…Please…I…I need some time alone…To put things in perspective…Please…"

Alex sat uncertainly. She desperately wanted to be with Bobby, to make sure he was all right. But she remembered George Huang's words that Bobby needed space and time alone as much as he needed friends and support.

"You promise me," she finally said. "That you'll get something to eat? That you'll rest?"

"Yes…"

"You'll call me if you need anything?"

"Yes…"

"All right." Alex retreated. "But I'm calling you tomorrow. And if you don't answer…"

"I understand…Of course…"

"Ok…Take care, Bobby." Alex buckled her seatbelt and backed her car out of the drive. Before she was out of the drive, Bobby was in his house and the front door locked behind him. He rushed into the bathroom and flung open the medicine cabinet. He seized the oxycontin, and dropped twice his usual dose. He swallowed the pills dry. Shaking, he shut the cabinet and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

"Oh, God…I've lied to Alex…My partner…My best friend…I've lied to Ross…Who's stuck his neck out for me…To Huang…To all those people…Who've done so much for me…I've…I've become Frank…No! No! No!"

Bobby shook his head. "I will not become him…I will not be Frank…"

He straightened, walked out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. He slowly knelt by his bed, reached under it, and pulled out the steel safety box containing his gun and the heroin and the cocaine. He stared at the box for several minutes. "I am not Frank," he whispered. He picked up the box and walked into his kitchen to retrieve his keys from the kitchen table. "What a waste," he thought as he walked back to the bathroom. "What a waste."

END CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Ok, I'm not sure if I got the grand jury procedure right, and I apologize for any mistakes I made regarding it.


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

"I need normal…Or at least whatever passes for normal in my life," Alex thought as she drove away from Bobby's house. She called her sister, who was happy to hear from her and even happier to invite her to dinner. Her nephew Nate, who insisted on talking to his Aunt Alex, was even happier to learn she was coming for a surprise visit. Alex had a terrific dinner and evening, and she wound up spending the night in the lower level of Nate's bunk bed. She decided not to call Bobby that night, reasoning that he needed something approaching "normal" as much as she did. Exhausted by the day and Nate, she slept remarkably well until Nate woke her with a whispered, "Aunt Alex, are you still asleep?" She and Bobby had the day off, and she lingered for a long breakfast with her sister and Nate. It was nearly eleven when she left. She checked her cell phone, but found no messages. She called Bobby's cell phone, but her call went directly to voice mail. The same thing happened when she called his home phone. "Damn," she thought. "Surely he didn't go into work…" She called Major Case, but the officer there told her Bobby wasn't in. A heavy weight settled in her stomach.

Her anger and fear grew as she drove to Bobby's house and her calls went unanswered. By the time she arrived at his house, Alex was torn between wanting to badly hurt him or wanting to find him asleep in his bed. She fumbled with the key he'd given her, but managed to get the door unlocked. Her heart in her throat, she stepped into the house. Even though it was the middle of the day, it was dim. "Bobby?" she called. She hadn't been in Bobby's house for some time, since well before his latest ordeal. The living room was still neat, but there seemed to be dust on everything. It appeared as if no one had been in the room for some time. The kitchen showed signs of recent use if not recent cleaning. Bills and other papers littered the kitchen table. A notebook lay open in front of a chair, and numbers and calculations covered its pages. The writing was Bobby's, but it was more of an undisciplined scrawl than Alex remembered. The calculations and bills indicated Bobby was feebly trying to keep track of his finances.

"That's not like Bobby," Alex thought. "Even after his mother died…Even after he was suspended…He was careful about paying his bills…And what are these?"

She looked at a pile of small slips. In the midst of the chaotic mess on the table, they were notable for their neatness. With a growing dread and shock, Alex realized the slips were drug prescriptions. There were many of them—for vicodin, oxycontin, codeine, Paxil, Prozac—others that she barely recognized but knew were anti-depressants, sleeping pills, and painkillers. There were multiple prescriptions from multiple doctors. After her initial shock, Alex felt strangely numb. It was as if having her worst fears confirmed left her beyond feeling.

"Bobby," she thought. "Bobby is a drug addict…Bobby…He must be in really bad shape…To get to this point…What with his brother…His Mom…He was always so afraid of drugs…To do this…His body…His head…He must be really…And where is he?"

Alex examined the kitchen. The stove showed no signs of recent use. There were glasses in the sink, and some drying on the counter. Parts of the kitchen were clean or at least looked as if someone had tried to clean them, but other areas looked as if they hadn't been touched for weeks. A bottle of Scotch, two-thirds empty, sat on one counter, and Alex could see empty liquor and beer bottles poking from the trash can.

"Oh, God, Bobby," Alex thought. "How did you get to this? How could I not see…"

She opened the refrigerator. Only several bottles of bear and a package of coffee greeted her. Alex wondered if the only time Bobby ate in recent days was when she dragged him out.

"Oh, Bobby…"

She moved to his bedroom. The door was slightly open, and she called his name. There was no response, and she pushed the door open, dreading what she might find. There was no one in the room. Like the rest of the house, the bedroom showed signs of an effort to keep it in order. But clothes were scattered over the drawer and chair. The closet door was open, and Alex saw some more clothes scattered on the floor. Others were hung carelessly. She remembered the one time she saw in the closet when Bobby was searching for a tie, and how she teased him about how compulsively neat he kept his clothes. She turned her attention to the bed. The blankets and sheets were jumbled on the bed and dangled off it, with one sheet stretched out across the floor. Bobby appeared to have been in the bed sometime recently. But where was he now? Alex looked at the bathroom door. One of the few renovations Bobby had made to his house was to his bathroom, including the addition of a door leading from the bedroom and an extra large tub and shower. She saw a sliver of light beneath the bathroom door. She walked to and knocked on the door.

"Bobby?"

She turned the knob and pushed against the door. It wouldn't budge; something blocked it.

"Bobby!" Alex called again, fear edging into her voice.

She heard a deep moan, and a smell of a pungent mix of vomit and blood reached her. She pushed harder against the door, and a deeper moan responded to her efforts.

She rushed from the bedroom through the living room to the kitchen. She tried the knob to the bathroom door, but it was locked. "Damn," Alex thought. "Sorry, Bobby…" She leaned back and, grateful she wore her heavy shoes, kicked the door as hard as she could. She was lucky that the door and the lock were both old and that Bobby hadn't replaced them. The wood around the lock splintered with her first kick and shattered with her second. She slammed the door open and, stunned, stared at the door on the other side.

"Oh, God…Bobby…Bobby…"

END CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Fortunately, my only knowledge of drug withdrawal comes from fiction and wikipedia. My apologies if I've gotten things wrong.


	23. Chapter 23

Warning…Graphic content.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The agitation started soon after he took the last of the pills at the courthouse. He knew much of it was because he didn't have access to his supplies, and he managed to remain fairly controlled. But as he continued with his testimony, his anxiety grew, and he knew it was due to more than just not being able to pop a pill. "Home," he thought. "I've got to get home." The judge finally dismissed him, and he paced as he waited for Alex to finish speaking with Ross. "Oh, God," he thought. "They know…They're ashamed of me…" He was about to rush out of the courthouse and grab a cab when Alex turned to him.

He kept her out of the house, but felt horribly guilty. The oxycontin took the edge off his anxiety and the pain away for a while, but soon after he flushed the last of the pills down the toilet, a cramp started in his stomach and circled around to his back. Several minutes later, a wave of nausea sent him into his bathroom, and he just made it to the toilet before he violently threw up. He fell to his knees and leaned heavily on the ceramic bowl. "Oh, God…Getting rid of all of it at once was not a good idea…" He lurched to his feet and frantically searched through the cabinets. He fell to the floor, seizing the empty pill bottles and desperately shaking them to see if any pills remained. He emptied the trash basket and rummaged through its contents. He crawled on the floor and looked for any pills that might have escaped. It became terribly clear that he'd thrown out all of the pills. He dragged himself to his feet and stared at his reflection in the mirror. "Oh, no," he muttered. "I've become the man I thought was my father…I've become my brother." Bobby had worked Narcotics and seen his brother go through withdrawal. He knew things were going to get worse—much worse—unless he found something to appease his body and mind, and found it fast. "There…There must be something," he thought. "The scrips…I have the scrips…I just need to get them refilled…" Another wave of pain and nausea swept over him. The pain forced him to his knees. He crawled to the toilet and threw up again. He slumped to the floor and curled up in a ball. He began to shiver and sweat flooded his body. "Oh, God," he thought. "Look what I've become…I'm sick and lying on my bathroom floor…Maybe I deserve this…"

He had no idea of time. He couldn't drag himself to his feet, let alone go into the kitchen to get his prescriptions. He couldn't even remember where his cell phone was. The minutes blurred into a haze of pain and fever and chills. He couldn't remember where he was or what he was doing. At several points he wasn't sure he knew who he was. He occasionally struggled to get to his feet or even just to his knees, but waves of pain and sickness stopped him. During his few lucid moments, he lay whimpering on the floor. He dimly remembered that he was supposed to call Alex. If he didn't call, he knew she would call him, and when he didn't answer, she would come looking for him. "Can't," he thought. "Can't let her see me like this." He fought to get to his knees, seized the edge of the counter, and pulled himself up to stand. He leaned heavily on the counter for a moment, and then the nausea and pain hit him. He was on the floor again. Sweat and vomit covered him, and he felt even sicker. He realized there was blood in the horrible mix as well.

"I'm dying," he thought. "I'm dying…Oh, God…Please…Don't let Alex find me like this…Please…

END CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Again, my knowledge of drug withdrawal is based on fiction and cursory research. I apologize for anything I've gotten wrong.


	24. Chapter 24

Warning--graphic, but not in a sexual way. And, again, what I know about drug addiction and withdrawal comes from reading. My apologies if I've gotten anything wrong.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The smell forced her back. The sight of Bobby, wearing his boxers and T-shirt and covered in blood and sweat and vomit, nearly sent her running away. Bobby moaned and shook, and Alex steeled herself. She walked towards him. He was curled up against the door leading to the bedroom and lacked the strength to hold his head up. Alex stepped around the pill bottles scattered around the floor.

"He's in withdrawal," she thought. "And he could die." Her first thought was to call for an ambulance. "No," she thought. "Everyone will know…They'll try to keep him from the one thing that can save him…Work…Huang…I should call Huang…"

Bobby's body twisted in pain, and he moaned again. Alex grabbed a towel from the rack and moved closer to him. "Bobby," she said softly. He moaned again, and tried to fold his body tighter. "Bobby," she said again. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"No," he groaned. "Don't…Don't want you to see me like this." His voice was horribly hoarse and raspy.

"I'm afraid," Alex said as gently and calmly as she could. "It's too late for that."

He finally looked up at her, and Alex saw blood smeared over his face. It came from his nose and a gash just above his right eye.

"I'm going to get you some water…And then try to get you cleaned up some…And we'll go on from there," Alex said.

She stood, walked to the sink, filled a glass with water, and returned. She carefully and tenderly placed her arm behind his neck and raised his head so he could drink. He drank it slowly and steadily. He finished, and Alex placed the folded towel beneath his head. He blinked up at her.

"I…I'm sorry…So sorry…Eames…I…I don't know…I don't know how it got this bad…I…" He swallowed and shivered.

"Bobby…Bobby…Take it easy…" She pushed his soaked hair off his forehead. "If I help you, do you think you could get in the tub?"

"Maybe…"

Alex reached in the cabinet beneath the sink and pulled out several towels. She used one to wipe Bobby's face. "Ok," she said. "Let's see if we can get you in the tub…"

It took some effort, but they managed to get Bobby in the tub. "All right," Alex said as matter of factly as she could. "Let's get your shirt off…" Bobby hesitated, and then weakly lifted his arms. Alex peeled the shirt off and tried not to think about what stained and soaked it.

"I…I think…I can get the boxers off," Bobby said.

Alex tried not to look at the scars on his back. "Ok," she said. "You just hand them to me…I'm afraid these clothes aren't going to survive all this." She looked away as Bobby slipped out of the boxers, and she tried not to stare at him when he handed them to her. She put the ravaged clothes in the trash. "I think a nice warm bath will help you a lot. I'm going to turn on the water…Let me know if it's too hot or cold." Still avoiding looking directly at him, she turned on the water. "I'm sorry if I'm embarrassing you."

Bobby stared at the tile wall. "I'm sorry…So sorry…That you have to do this for me…"

Alex stood and gathered up the trash bag from its basket. "The way I see it," she said deliberately. "You're alive and I get to do this for you. How's the temperature?"

"Uh…Fine…" His eyes were closed, as if he could distance himself from her if he didn't see her.

"You get started getting cleaned up," Alex said. "I'll take way these and get you some clean clothes."

"Eames." His eyes were still shut. "This is just a lull…It's going to be bad…Probably worse…"

"I know," Alex said. "And that gash over your eye probably needs stitches. After we get you cleaned up, we should…"

"No…No…Please…No hospitals…They…They can't know…All my doctors would know…It's bad enough that you…I've lied to everyone…I'm a terrible, weak man…I don't…"

Alex moved to the tub and placed a hand on Bobby's shoulder. He shuddered.

"No one will think that, Bobby. I don't think that…It's just…This is way beyond what I know…You need help from someone who knows what they're doing…"

He calmed and nodded slowly.

"I thought I'd call George Huang…"

Bobby stared at the water. "He's one of the people I lied to…"

"I don't think he'll see it that way," Alex said gently. "You go ahead and wash and I'll call him."

"All right…"

Alex stood. "Bobby…I…I'm not angry with you…I'm confused and afraid and…and sorry that I didn't see this and help you…But I'm not angry…I just want to help you."

She heard a small choked sound as she left the bathroom. She left the door slightly open and moved into the kitchen. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed George Huang. She liked the psychiatrist, and her respect for him grew as they worked together in the search for and recovery of Bobby. She reached Huang's voice mail and left a message that she hoped conveyed the urgency and delicacy of the situation. Whatever she said apparently worked; Huang, puzzled and concerned, returned her call in a few minutes.

"It's Bobby," she explained. "He got addicted to the painkillers and the sleeping pills." She thought that if she spoke quickly and simply she might be able to get through this. "He threw them all away last night. All of them. He's going through withdrawal."

Huang was silent for a moment. "Where is he?"

"At his house. I'm there. He's been terribly sick and in pain. He's a little better right now, but…"

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Huang said. "Detective Eames…I need to warn you…He may do or say things…He won't mean them…But he may be dangerous…"

"I don't think he's strong enough to be dangerous," Alex said. "At least not physically. He's terribly afraid of going back to the hospital. He's ashamed. He thinks he let everyone down."

"That doesn't surprise me," Huang said. "Like I said, I'll be there as soon as I can. Try to get some food inside him…Soup or cereal…And water…He's probably dehydrated. No alcohol…I suspect he's been using that as well…"

"Yea," Alex sighed. "It looks like it."

"Good luck," Huang said.

After she shut her cell phone, Alex felt very alone. "Ok," she said and went in the bedroom. She found a clean pair of boxers and a T-shirt. She knocked on the bathroom door and was enormously relieved to hear Bobby's low "Come in." She braced herself and walked in. Bobby sat in the tub. He'd made a good start at cleaning himself. Alex saw that the gash over his eye still oozed blood.

"C'mon," she said, maintaining the matter-of-fact tone she'd used with Huang. "Let's rinse you off."

"I…I might be able to stand up…Use the shower," Bobby said.

"I can help you," Alex said, and before he could protest, she got him to his feet.

He leaned heavily against the tiled wall as she turned on the shower, but he managed to move under the water to rinse the soap and dirty water off his body. Alex tried not to embarrass him as she turned off the water and wrapped a towel around him. She helped him step out of the tub.

"Can you dry yourself off and get those on?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Good. I'm going to fix some tea. You want some?"

He nodded again.

"I'll be back with the tea and to help you get in bed. Just call for me if you need me before then."

He nodded again.

She was at the door when he spoke.

"I…I'm sorry, Eames…So sorry…"

She turned to him. He stared at the floor. "Like I said, it's all right. I'm glad you're here and alive and that I can help you."

She listened intently for any sound of trouble as she filled the teakettle and put it on the stove. She found the tea and placed the bags in two mugs. She poured the boiling water over the tea, spooned and stirred sugar in the mugs, and carried them into the bedroom. She sat them on the small table next to the bed. She checked the pillows and sheets and found them clean enough. She moved to the bathroom door and knocked on it.

"Come in," Bobby said weakly.

She found him dressed in the clean clothes, but leaning heavily on the sink counter. He shivered, and looked terribly pale. He looked everywhere but at her.

"This…It's such a mess," he said.

"It's ok. I'll take care of it," Alex said.

"You shouldn't have to…"

"C'mon…" She carefully and gently placed her hand on his elbow. "Let's get you to bed…"

He leaned heavily on her on the short walk to his bed. He fell into it, and she helped him get his legs up and under the covers. She propped several pillows behind him and handed him a mug of tea. His hands shook as he took it. He took a tentative sip, followed by a deeper drink.

"I called Dr. Huang," Alex said as she placed a large band aid on his head. "He's on his way here."

Bobby stared into his tea. "I…I'm going to have to go back into the hospital…"

"Yea…"

"I…I…Eames…I'm going to be sick again…"

He shivered, and turned a terrible grey color. Alex grabbed his mug with one hand and a bowl she'd brought from the kitchen with the other. She held it while Bobby threw up. When he finished, she took it to the bathroom, emptied its contents, rinsed it, and returned as quickly as she could with the bowl and a wet washcloth. Bobby rested against the pillows. Sweat glistened on his face, and he shivered. She sat next to him and tenderly wiped his face.

"I…I'm sorry…I…" he murmured.

"Bobby…You don't have to keep saying that…"

"It…It hurts…It hurts so much…Please…Please…Can you give me anything? Is there…"

"I'm sorry, Bobby," she said gently. "I don't have anything. Dr. Huang will be here soon. I'm sure he'll have something that'll help."

Bobby groaned. "There's nothing…"

"I think if there was you would've found it."

"A drink," Bobby pleaded. "I know there's some…Just one drink…Please…"

She was strongly tempted to give it to him, but Huang's warning and her own good sense won out against her heart. "Bobby…With the shape you're in, it's not a good idea. And we don't know what Huang will want to give you to help you."

He wasn't so far gone that he couldn't recognize her logic. "You…You're right…But…Oh, God…It hurts so much." He twisted, and his hands clutched the sheet so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "I…I'm going to be sick again…"

Alex held the bowl for him again, and again took it away to empty and clean. When she returned, Bobby was curled in a fetal position. He shivered and sweat poured down his face.

"Here," she said. "I brought you some water…"

His hands shook too violently for him to hold the glass, and Alex had to help him lift his head so that he could drink it.

"Eames…You…God…I've done some stupid things…But this…And you have to clean up…" His face twisted in pain. "Oh…It hurts…It hurts so much…"

"Bobby…You didn't start all of this," Alex said firmly. "What caused this wasn't your fault…" She brushed her hand across his damp hair. He shook. "Am I hurting you?"

"No…No…It helps…" he confessed. "Forgive me…It helps…"

The doorbell rang, and Bobby started.

"That's probably Huang," Alex said.

Bobby seized her hands. "Don't…Don't go…Please…"

"Bobby." Alex wondered where this calm and reasonable tone came from in her exhausted and frightened mind. "He's here to help you…He probably has something that can help your pain. I'll be gone for only a few moments…I promise you I'll be right back…"

His grip eased slightly. "You…You promise?"

"I promise."

He reluctantly released her hands. "Ok."

Alex moved quickly to the front door. After checking through the small window, she opened the door for George Huang.

"Bad…" he said as he examined her.

"He…He's in a lot of pain…He can't keep anything down…" Alex said as she led Huang to the bedroom. "He has chills—really bad ones—and he's drenched in sweat. He's got a nasty gash on his head…And…And he's so ashamed. He thinks he let everyone down."

"That sounds like the Bobby Goren I've come to know," Huang said sadly. "Has he had any hallucinations?"

"Not that I've seen," Alex answered. "And he hasn't been aggressive or hostile…He wanted me to find something to help him. He wanted me to give him a drink. And I was tempted…But I didn't…"

"You did the right thing," Huang assured her. "Right now, it wouldn't help him and could hurt him badly."

They reached the bedroom door.

"I feel terrible," Alex confessed. "He was in trouble…Horrible trouble…And I didn't see it…Or I didn't want to see it…"

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Alex," Huang said gently. "I didn't catch it either. A lot of good doctors didn't catch it. We all wanted him to get better. We wanted to believe he was doing so well. And he's very good at hiding his pain."

"Ok." Alex took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

END CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR


	25. Chapter 25

Again, my knowledge of drug addiction and withdrawal is limited. And this story is asking for short chapters at the moment.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

While Dr. Huang examined Bobby, Alex cleaned the bathroom. It gave her something to do besides hover and worry, and, although she was nearing exhaustion, the physical activity dispelled some of her anger at the doctors, the NYPD, herself, and she admitted, Bobby. She occasionally heard a low murmur from the bedroom. "Well," she thought as she scrubbed the bathtub. "At least Bobby doesn't seem to be angry. Oh, God…What's going to happen?" She finished cleaning the bathroom, and as softly as she could she knocked on the bedroom door. Huang responded, "Come in."

It was evening, and the room was dark except for a lamp on the table next to Bobby's bed. Bobby, his eyes closed, lay back on his pillows. Huang had bandaged the gash on his head, and Bobby was nearly as white as the bandage.

"I've given him something that will help keep him calm for a while," Huang said. "But we need to get him to the hospital. How long has he been going through withdrawal?"

"I don't know," Alex said wearily. "I dropped him off here about this time last night. I should've stayed with him…"

"Don't beat yourself up, Detective Eames," Huang said gently. "You didn't know…And if you'd stayed with him, he might not have gotten rid of the drugs. It wasn't the smartest way to deal with an addiction, but at least he recognized that he was addicted and acted in a way that shows he wants to stop. I've arranged for a place for him at Bellevue. Both rehab and with the torture victims center."

Bobby stirred slightly and moaned.

"Does he have to?" Alex knew the answer even as she asked the question.

"I'm afraid so," Huang replied. "It's too dangerous for him to go through this by himself."

Alex's head throbbed. "How are we going to get him there?"

"I think we can drive him," Huang replied. "I think we can do this as quietly as possible. Keep things as uncomplicated as possible. I'm not an advocate of secrecy…But I'm a great advocate of privacy."

"I'm a mess…I'd like to take a shower," Alex said. "Do I have the time?"

Huang glanced at Bobby. "I think so…"

"Good…I trust you won't let the NYPD know that Bobby and I keep a change of clothes at each other's place…"

Huang half smiled. "My lips are sealed."

Alex found her duffel bag in the hall closet. She went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, shed her dirty clothes, and stepped under the hot water. She thought she might collapse or at least shed a few tears, but she only felt numb and tired. She almost wished she could cry. She let the hot water run over her and scrubbed her skin until she at least felt clean. She briefly enjoyed the water when it began to cool, and then turned off the shower. She dried herself with one of the big, fluffy towels Bobby favored, combed her hair, dressed, and knocked on the bedroom door.

"Eames," she heard Bobby's voice cry. She hurried in.

"See," Huang said gently. "I promised you that Detective Eames would be back."

Bobby's great, dark eyes were filled with a desperate sadness. "I…I'm sorry…I woke up…And you weren't here…"

"I'm here now," Alex said gently. He hand hovered over Bobby's head. He turned his head towards her hand, and Alex let it touch his head. He trembled at her touch, but moved deeper into it. His thickening beard was remarkably soft.

"Dr. Huang says I have to go back to the hospital," Bobby said.

"Yea." Alex rested her hand on his head.

"You…You'll…"

"I'll come with you," Alex declared. "Nothing will keep me away."

"Thank you." Bobby's voice broke her heart. He turned to Huang. "Ok…I'm ready…"

Alex didn't know what medications Huang had given Bobby, but they left him quiet and malleable. He didn't seem to be in any pain, but he shivered occasionally, and a small, crimson patch appeared on the bandage on his head.

"That's going to need stitches," Huang said. "And we need to make sure you didn't get a concussion."

"I think," Bobby said wryly. "That's the least of my problems."

Alex packed a bag for Bobby with a few essentials. She and Huang managed to get Bobby in her car.

"He…He's so…So quiet…" Alex said as they started to leave.

"An effect of what I gave him," Huang said. "And he's exhausted. It won't last, and I hope we can get him to the hospital before it wears off."

They made it to the hospital just in time. Bobby became increasingly agitated through the trip. He tried not to show his growing pain and fear, but he shivered more frequently and violently. The bright lights of other cars and the streetlights were a particular torture for him. They finally arrived at the hospital, and Bobby stared up at it.

"It's not going to be easy," Huang said gently. "But it'll be better here than struggling by yourself. I promise you…It'll be better."

"Bobby." Alex opened the back door. "Dr. Huang is telling you the truth."

Bobby swallowed. "You…You'll stay with me?"

"I will," Alex promised.

"Ok…"

END CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Alex Eames had seen and experienced a lot in her professional and personal lives. She'd seen and experienced much of that in her partnership with Bobby Goren, a relationship that obliterated the lines between the professional and the personal. She'd seen his hurt—even as he tried to hide it—when her damnable transfer request rose from the hole where it should've stayed. She saw his guilt and fear when she woke in the hospital to find him at her bedside after her kidnapping. She saw his pain and terror after his time in Tates. She saw his grief and confusion after his mother's death. Even in the midst of her anger, she saw his fear and bafflement after his undercover work brought him back to work and briefly into her bad graces. And she'd seen all of those emotions when she investigated his brother's death and discovered Declan Gage's involvement and betrayal of Bobby. But she'd never seen Bobby or anyone suffer as much as he did after his torture at the hands of Linley and Caldwell and his withdrawal from drugs was in many ways the worst part of that. The hospital staff was kind and good, but Bobby still suffered horribly. He begged Alex to bring him something, anything, to help. He hallucinated, at several terrible points confusing Alex with his mother. He saw his dead brother, Nicole, and other demons.

"It'll get better," Huang promised her. "I have to say…He's one of the most remarkable…The doctors and nurses in the rehab unit…They've never seen a patient who hasn't lashed out at them…"

"It's so hard to watch him go through this," Alex said.

She didn't have to watch him all the time. There were moments when Bobby desperately begged her to leave him, and she did, at least until the combination of exhaustion and medication left him unconscious. Then she'd slip back into his room and sit at his bedside. The minutes blurred into hours, the hours into days, until time ceased to exist for her. She lost contact with the rest of the world. She left a few messages for Ross in the first days of Bobby's hospitalization, but turned her phone off after that. She finally encountered the Captain when she made a rare visit to the hospital cafeteria.

"Alex," Ross said warmly. "Let me buy you a cup of coffee."

"I know," Alex said as they faced each other over the terrible coffee. "I look awful. I feel marginally better than I look."

Ross smiled sadly. "You look more than fine, especially considering what you've been through. How is he?"

"Better." It was the truth. Bobby wasn't good yet, but he was better.

"What happened? Huang told me very little…"

"Bobby wasn't as good as we thought he was," Alex said cautiously.

"I gathered that," Ross replied. "But what happened to send him back here?"

Alex stared at her coffee.

"Look, Alex…I want to help him…But I have to know what's going on…"

"He…The painkillers…" Alex wasn't sure how much or what she should tell Ross. "After he testified before the Grand Jury…He realized he…He was in trouble…And he stopped taking them…And had a…a bad reaction." She realized that was one of the understatements of the year.

Ross looked at her. "He realized…"

"He threw all his medications away…Like I said…He knew he was in trouble…He didn't do the smartest thing to deal with it, but he did something…"

"I had no idea," Ross said. "I thought he was doing fine…Or at least as fine as anyone who went through what he did could be…He's certainly not the first cop with a problem…And he had better excuses than almost anyone…" Ross sighed. "I need to know, Alex…Was his work compromised in any way?"

Anger flared in Alex, but she managed to hold her tongue. "No," she said sharply and stood.

"Alex…Please understand…We need to protect…"

"Protect who? The Brass? The FBI? A couple of psycho serial killers? Certainly not Bobby Goren."

"Alex…"

"We let him down. We didn't protect him from Caldwell and Linley. And then…After…We didn't help him…We just used him…" Alex leaned heavily on a chair.

"Alex…We tried to protect him. It doesn't help that he's one of the people he needs protection from." Ross spoke calmly. "I feel bad too…I failed him too."

Alex stared at the table. "I'm sorry," she said. "That was unfair…"

"But understandable," Ross said. He stood. "I'm sorry, Alex, but I need to get back to One PP…Don't worry about being here…It's covered."

Guilt replaced Alex's anger. "I'm sorry, Captain…I yell at you and I'm not even pulling my own weight…"

"You're doing what I want and need you to do," Ross replied. "You're doing your job…And it may get tougher."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked warily.

Ross sighed. "Both Caldwell and Linley have hinted to the FBI that there are more bodies out there. In Caldwell's case, it's probably a ploy to cut a deal or make himself important. But with Linley…Well, it was never really certain how many victims Sebastian had…"

Alex felt sick. She sat down. "Those two…I can't think of a word vile enough to describe them…They want to talk to Bobby…"

Ross nodded slowly. "The FBI says they're obsessed with him…The one that got away…"

"Bobby can't…He can't," Alex mumbled.

"I know," Ross assured her. "I've told that to the FBI. Huang has told them that. I'm about to go to a meeting where Huang and I will tell them that again."

"Bobby can't find out," Alex said fiercely. "He'd do it…He'd do it for the families…He'd even do it for those psychos and Declan Gage…" She stared at her hands on the table. "That is…If he's the same Bobby Goren he was before he went through all of this…"

"The Goren that I saw when he first came back," Ross said. "The one I saw testify before the grand jury…He had all of Goren's best qualities…And those are considerable. Let him know that I want him back. And I'm fighting for him. Several Captains would like to add him to their squads."

"Yea, now that he's the Golden Boy," Alex said. "All it took was for him to be tortured nearly to death."

"It's not just that, Alex," Ross said kindly. "I'm sorry…I have to go…"

"Captain…"

Ross turned back to her.

"Thank you…"

END CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

He was again one of the favorite patients. He was again cheerful, grateful, polite, and patient, even when he suffered the lingering withdrawal symptoms. And he was again hidden behind walls of carefully constructed defenses. He maintained a warm, friendly tone with Alex. He asked her about her family and work, but she knew this was designed to keep her from asking or pursuing the real issues between them. Alex was so guilty and frightened she played the part he wanted her to in their shared drama. They avoided discussing the Sebastian case. Alex certainly wasn't going to bring it up, and Bobby knew better than to talk about it with her. He turned to George Huang for information on that case. He'd discovered that by revealing some of his feelings and experiences the psychiatrist would reveal some of the case's developments in return. He knew that Huang knew what was going on. The man was too good at his job not to. But Huang seemed more than willing to engage in the bargain, and Bobby found his respect for the psychiatrist growing.

"I wonder," Bobby said as he and Huang sat in one of the surprisingly cheery waiting rooms at the hospital. Huang had discovered his patient was more relaxed and likely to talk away from a hospital room. "I wonder if you could do me a favor."

Huang leaned forward in his chair. Bobby Goren rarely asked for favors, and when he did, it was for information he couldn't get from Alex Eames. In return, Goren would offer something about his torture at the hands of Linley and Caldwell, or, more infrequently and importantly, about his past. Huang found Goren intelligent, brave, and fascinating. The psychiatrist had read the many files on the man's life dating back to his childhood. Goren had raised no objections to Huang seeing these files; the detective had been extremely cooperative in agreeing to their release. Huang was stunned that Goren had not only survived the childhood described in those files, but had become a sensitive, intelligent, good man. Huang learned far more about Goren's traumas from those files than he did from the man himself. The doctor discovered he could get Goren, reluctantly and slowly, to talk about his life if he asked the man to confirm or deny some point in the files, and if he could offer some information about the Sebastian case. It appeared to Huang that this was one of those occasions when Goren was about to ask a very big favor, and Huang wondered what he might get in return.

"What is it?" Huang asked.

"Can you…Can you find out how Declan Gage is?" Bobby's hands plucked at his robe.

The request didn't entirely surprise Huang. It was entirely in what he'd learned about Goren's character.

"I believe I can," Huang said.

"I…I know it's hard to understand," Bobby said softly. "I have trouble understanding it myself. But…In spite of what he did to me…He did a lot for me. And I may be the only person left…Do you know…Does he know about the Sebastian case? About what happened to me?"

"I've heard some things," Huang answered, carefully weighing his words. "The press…Well, you know how unreliable those reports are…"

Bobby smiled wryly and nodded his head. "I understand the POST has had me dead and the funeral arrangements made at least twice."

Huang returned the smile. "The FBI has tried to interview him…But Gage can't…Or won't…Speak to them. You know that Detective Eames spoke to him when…When they were trying to find you…"

"I…I've heard something about that," Bobby said. "But…I…Eames hasn't said…"

"She hasn't told me a great deal about it…But it helped find you…That…And your phone call of course…"

Bobby pulled his robe closer around him. "She…She hates Gage…Has every right to…For her to go talk to him…I can't talk about him with her…"

"It seems you can't talk about anything related to Sebastian with her." Huang pushed gently at the small opening.

"Yea…" Bobby pinched his nose. "It doesn't help that I failed…"

"How did you fail?"

"I…I've failed her…Ever since Jo Gage took her…Before then…I've ruined her career…Probably ruined Deakins' career…And now Ross…"

"I don't think you've ruined anyone's career." Huang treaded carefully. Bobby had circled this subject before, but had never been so direct about it.

"I'm the Typhoid Mary of the NYPD," Bobby said. "Half the department wants me gone because I shamed and arrested Frank Adair…The other half wants me gone because of the way I reopened the case of the murder of Eames' husband and got Patrick Copa thrown off the force. And then I went undercover and became a rat…And Eames has a target on her back because of me." Bobby spoke without anger or bitterness; he might have been relaying the details of a case.

"Have you talked to Eames about this?"

Bobby shrugged. "A little…She says everything's ok…Of course…"

"You don't believe her?"

Bobby recognized Huang's tone. The psychiatrist employed it—usually successfully—to get patients to reveal something. Bobby had seen members of group sessions fall for it. Bobby had fallen for it. Bobby knew that he used a similar tone in interrogations. He quietly weighed how much learning about Declan Gage's condition was worth. Quite a lot, he decided.

"No," Bobby admitted. "It can't be ok. It shouldn't be ok. I've done too much to her…She's done too much for me. She was right that I treated her like she carried my water…"

"Carried your water?"

"When I was suspended…After Tates…And I went undercover to get my shield back…I think the Chief of Detectives hoped I'd get killed. I know," Bobby said in response to Huang's reaction. "Sounds paranoid. But the same thought crossed Ross' mind. One condition was that I couldn't tell anyone…Anyone…Even Eames…She was so angry after all of it…"

"Detective Eames knows the rules…"

"She almost shot me," Bobby said flatly. "She thought I'd turned…That I was a bad cop…There's rules, and there's a partnership…A friendship…I should've told her…But…I had to protect her…I had to get my shield back…But she didn't understand…" Bobby's defenses cracked. "That the reason I had to get it back…" He choked.

Huang was on the edge of his chair. "Why? Why did you want this job back so badly? Especially if, as you say, so many people are against you? Don't want you?"

Bobby struggled for several moments. When he raised his head, Huang saw with disappointment that the detective's defenses were again in full operation.

"Well," Bobby said casually. "It's the only work I've ever done really. First with the Army, and then the NYPD. It's the only thing I'm remotely good at. And there's my pension…"

"There's other places you could work for." Huang moved on the attack.

"The FBI?" Bobby snorted. "Even if it would have me, the rules would drive me crazy. And I can't see myself living or working in another city."

"Why not?" Huang challenged him. "What do you have to hold you here?"

The question threw Bobby for a moment. "I…Uh…Friends…Associates, I guess…"

"I know something about them," Huang said. "An interesting and eclectic group, but scattered all over the world. Very few in or near New York City."

Bobby shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"And your closest family that you've had recent contact with lives in Minnesota," Huang continued.

Bobby again pinched the bridge of his nose. The thought that knowing the state of Declan Gage's health wasn't worth this crossed his mind.

"Bobby," Huang said gently. "You're a bright man. You know why you came back…And why you stayed…"

"I…I…She…She's a friend…My best friend…" Bobby stammered. "But…But it's selfish…I shouldn't have come back…I…"

"Has Detective Eames said that? Has she ever given up on you? Has she ever asked for a transfer?"

Bobby looked as if Huang struck him. "She did once…"

It was Huang's turn to be stunned. "When?"

"At…At the beginning…"

"How long ago?"

"Eight years ago," Bobby said softly.

"It's not in your files…"

"It didn't go through…She didn't push it," Bobby said wearily.

"Why didn't she?"

"Because…Because she…She said working with me…She learned…She said I was an ethical and efficient officer…"

"That sounds like huge praise from what I know about Detective Eames," Huang said.

Bobby stared at the ground.

"After your suspension…During all of what you described…" Huang continued. "Did Detective Eames make any kind of move to get another partner? Or to transfer?"

Bobby shook his head. "But…Maybe…Being partnered with me…Maybe she couldn't…"

"Maybe she won't," Huang said. "Maybe she wants to work with you…Needs to work with you…As much as you do with her."

Bobby stared up at Huang. He seemed unable to process the psychiatrist's words.

"Here's the deal," Huang said. He leaned forward so that his knees nearly touched Bobby's. "I'll find out how Gage is. And I'll throw in another thing. I'll find out how the Sebastian investigation is going. I know you also want to know about that."

"What's it going to cost me? In addition to this conversation," Bobby asked cautiously.

"Talk to her," Huang said. "Talk to Detective Eames."

Bobby was silent for several minutes. "I…I'm afraid," he finally said. "I'm afraid she'll go away…That she'll see me for what I really am…"

Huang felt ridiculously triumphant at Bobby's revelations. "Have you considered," he said, trying to control his excitement. "That Detective Eames may be afraid? That she may feel guilty?"

Bobby stared at Huang. "Why…Why should she? Eames…Eames is strong…She's the strongest, best person I know…What…"

"She may feel guilty for some of the same reasons that you do," Huang said patiently. "Just talk to her…And I'll get that information for you."

As Huang walked away, Bobby wondered if any information was worth opening his heart and soul to Eames.

END CHAPTER 27


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

"I don't need that," Bobby said, giving the wheelchair a disdainful look.

The nurse smiled. "It's the rules, Mr. Goren. You could always stay, I suppose."

"All right, all right," Bobby said quickly. "I'll get in the wheelchair."

Alex picked up Bobby's book bag. "Good grief, Goren…Whatya got in here…"

"I'll take that," Bobby said. "It's got my books and stuff…The important stuff…"

Alex handed the bag to Bobby, who held it tightly as the nurse wheeled him out of his room. He clutched it like a shield as they moved down the hall, and doctors, nurses, staff, and patients spoke warmly to Bobby and congratulated him. Bobby shyly and awkwardly accepted their greetings and wishes.

"We usually have a bit of a celebration when a patient leaves the hospital," the nurse said.

Bobby sank in the chair, and Alex and the nurse shared a knowing look.

"Don't worry, Mr. Goren," the nurse said. "We're not going to do that to you."

They reached the main floor, and Alex shouldered Bobby's large duffel bag. "I'll bring the car around," she said cheerfully. "Would you like me to take your backpack?" She thought she saw a flash of fear in Bobby's eyes.

"Uh…No…I'll keep it…You know how I am about my books," Bobby stammered.

"You get your car, Ms. Eames," the nurse said. "And I'll make sure we've got everything taken care of."

Several minutes later, Bobby was seated in the passenger seat of Alex's car, his backpack safely in the seat behind him.

"It's almost winter," he said as he stared out the window. "I…I remember…When they had me…I wondered if I'd ever get to see daffodils again."

Alex held her breath. Bobby rarely spoke of what had happened when Linley and Caldwell had him. She was relieved that he was speaking about it, but terrified of what he might say and how she might react.

"You lost a few months," Alex said carefully.

"So did you," Bobby responded.

"I helped a friend," Alex said after a moment. "I don't regard that as a loss."

"Thank you," Bobby said after several blocks passed. "For picking me up and getting me home…and for…Well…Everything…And please don't say it's nothing. It…It means a lot…A lot…I don't know what I would've done without you."

She was stunned by his openness, his sincerity, and his use of her first name. She chanced a quick look at him. He stared out the window, and one hand tightly gripped the dash while the other clutched his left knee. His left leg jumped nervously, and Alex thought only his hand kept it from banging against the dash.

"You're very welcome," she said when she could trust her voice. "And thank you…"

"For what?" He turned to her in surprise.

"For staying alive…For coming back…For not giving up…"

Several minutes and miles passed, and they were nearly at his home before Bobby spoke again. "You're welcome, too."

He accepted her help as he slowly got out of her car. He quickly grabbed his backpack and held it tightly as they went in the house.

"Wow…It's clean," he said.

"I gave it a quick once over," Alex admitted. She carried his duffel into the bedroom "You want anything hung up or put away?"

"No," he said as he made his way to the living room. He sat heavily on the couch and placed the backpack at his feet. He fought the urge to lean his head back on the cushion and close his eyes.

Alex stepped into the room. "You ok?"

"It's not the drugs or pain or anything like that," Bobby said. "I'm really tired."

"So…What's so important in that bag?" Alex sat at the other end of the couch.

"You're a good detective," Bobby said. He ran his hand through his hair. "I need a haircut," he said. "Maybe I should get to a barber."

"That bad, uh?" Alex said.

"Maybe worse." Bobby leaned forward, picked up the bag, and sat it between Alex and himself.

"What have you been doing? And who's been helping you do it?" Alex's voice suggested that Bobby and whoever was helping him were in serious trouble.

"I'm not going to rat out anyone," Bobby said. "Although you'll probably figure it out." He unzipped the bag's biggest compartment and pulled out several files. Alex saw that they were related to the Sebastian case. She began to see red.

"Bobby…You're in no shape to deal with this…"

"Al…Eames…Alex…God…" Bobby ran his hand through his graying curls. "Please…I need this…I need the work…I need the job…I need to know that I can do this…"

"Even if it hurts you…"

Bobby put the files on the coffee table in front of the couch. "The job…The work…It isn't why I took the drugs…It was because of the pain…And the shame and the guilt I felt…But the work…The work helps me…"

Alex sat stiffly on the edge of the couch.

"Alex…Please…I have to tell you…I know…If I can't or don't tell you, it's never good…But…I can't not be me…Not do what I am…"

She took a deep breath. "All right. What are you doing?"

"Not much. Yet…Most of these…" He waved at the files. "I'm doing what I did before. Looking for patterns. Trying to see where Linley may have dumped bodies." He put the backpack on the floor and winced.

"Are you ok?" Worry and fear replaced Alex's anger. She moved closer to Bobby.

"Yea." Bobby leaned back carefully. "My body is just reminding me to take it easy…Like I need to be reminded."

"You need anything? Something to eat? Drink? You need some rest?" Alex asked anxiously.

He was, in truth, exhausted. He wanted to stumble into his bedroom, collapse in his bad, and wrap the sheets and blankets around him. "No," he thought. "I've got to talk to her…Suck it up, Goren…Suck it up…"

"I'm ok," he lied.

"I'll get you some tea or something." Alex started to stand.

"Alex." Bobby caught her arm. "Later…I…I…We…" She sat again. Bobby felt her vibrate with tension—at least he thought it was her. He was so nervous and anxious that it might have been his own muscles and nerves trembling. "God," he muttered. "This was so much easier when I practiced it in the hospital."

"Bobby…Whatever you do…Please…Don't apologize…Don't say you're sorry again…All of this wasn't your fault." Bobby couldn't tell if Alex was angry or upset.

"It certainly wasn't yours." Bobby stared at the carpet's design. Alex didn't respond, and he looked at her. She sat with her arms folded and gnawed on her lip.

"Eames…Alex…You can't think…" Bobby remembered Huang's words. "You…This wasn't your fault…"

She squeezed her arms tighter around her body and refused to look at him. Bobby moved closer to her.

"Alex…You can't think…After all I've done to you…None of this was your fault."

Tears formed in her eyes. Bobby's hand hovered over her shoulder.

"Alex…This wasn't your fault…There's no way…"

She shivered. "I…I should've gone with you…I should've called sooner…"

"Alex…You got people to look for me…You listened to my message…You followed and found that van…You…You even went to Declan Gage…"

Her head shot up to look at him.

"Huang told me," Bobby said. "You must have really wanted to find me if you were willing to talk to Gage."

"Maybe…If I hadn't been so stubborn…If I'd paid attention to you and listened…" The tears brimmed in her eyes.

"Alex…There's no way…No way…That you were responsible…" His hand rested on her shoulder. "This wasn't your fault."

The tears started to fall down Alex's cheeks, and Bobby couldn't see clearly for the tears in his eyes.

"Alex…Please…Please…" He'd expected her anger, but this was far worse. "Please…"

A sob shook her, and Bobby wrapped his arms around her. She fought him for a moment, and then collapsed in his arms. Bobby tried to hold and comfort her, but his exhaustion, and guilt, and the pain of seeing her in such anguish overcame him, and he was suddenly sobbing with her. Neither of them knew how long they clung to each other, but they found themselves hugging each other.

"I…I…" Bobby choked.

"Bobby…Don't you dare say you're sorry," Alex managed to say.

"Ok…But you know I'm thinking it," Bobby said. He tenderly rubbed the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "Are…Are you all right?"

"Getting there." She brushed the tears from his face. His stubble felt soft and his skin warm.

"You know you kept me alive," Bobby said softly. "When…When they had me…You kept me alive…"

Alex's hand drifted to the back of his neck. "How…How did I?"

His hand gently held her face. "The thought of you…Of seeing you again…Of telling you how sorry I was…How grateful I was…Am…It kept me alive…It kept me…Something around sane…"

Her fingers moved slowly through his hair. "I…Just the thought of me did that?"

Her touch sent warm waves through his body. He began to find it difficult to think. "I told you…When…You found me…"

"My memories of that are confused," Alex murmured. The warm touch of Bobby's hand on her face filled her with strength. "I was so glad that we found you…I was so glad you were alive…And you were so badly hurt…I was so scared…I heard you, but I didn't hear you."

Her face was very close to his, and he could feel her breath.

"Eames…Alex…Uh…Please…I can't…We can't…Please…"

Her face slipped over his until her lips rested on his. His thoughts blurred. Alex said something in a sweet, husky voice, but he couldn't make out the words. Her touch was warm and wonderful, but the faces of Linley and Caldwell invaded his mind. His throat and chest constricted, and he couldn't breathe. His heart raced.

"Alex," he choked. "Please…I…"

Red pulsed in his vision, and there was a roaring in his ears. He was dizzy and sick, and darkness took him.

END CHAPTER 28


	29. Chapter 29

Well, these two will talk. And I'll let them.

CHAPTER 29

"Bobby…Bobby…Please…If you can hear me…Please…Bobby…Bobby…"

Alex's voice reached him through a dense fog. Bobby struggled to hear her. He blinked, and her white and worried face focused over him.

"Bobby…Can you hear me?"

"I…I…"

"Take it easy," Alex said gently. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders.

The thought of trying to sit up didn't enter Bobby's mind. He closed his eyes again until the roaring in his ears ended. He finally opened his eyes and was able to focus on Alex's face.

"I…I think I'm ok," he said. "It…It was all too much."

He lay on his couch, and Alex knelt beside him. "Was I out very long?" he asked.

"No…Just long enough to scare me."

"Oh…Alex…Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she said. "But if this is going to happen every time you're honest…" Alex shook her head and smiled.

"It wasn't that…Or at least not just that," Bobby said. "I…I'd like to try to sit up…"

Alex helped him and sat carefully next to him.

"Alex…Please…I can't think…When…You're so close…"

"I guess I should take that as a complement," Alex said warmly. "I'm going to get us something to drink. And I'm going to order a pizza…Ok?"

"Yea," Bobby said. He sat on the couch's edge and held his head in his hands. "It's not that bad," he thought. "The truth isn't scaring her. She's not leaving. She…She…What does she feel? Why is she here?"

"Hey."

He looked up to see Alex standing before him. She held two glasses of iced tea. She handed one to him.

"Where did this come from?" Bobby asked. "I don't remember having much…"

"Don't worry…Your supplies have been replenished," Alex smiled.

Bobby took a long drink of his tea. It was strong and sweet and wonderfully cold. "Thank you," he said. "Alex…What…What was happening? Why…Why are you here?"

Alex sat next to him, carefully avoiding touching him. "It's not pity…It's not guilt…At least those aren't the main reasons…" She stared at her tea. "One of the things I realize when you…you were taken..I care about you…Way beyond partnership…Friendship…

"Huang was right," Bobby thought. "She's scared…And about the same things I am…"

"Bobby."

He raised his head.

"How do you feel about me?"

He stared at her in stunned admiration. She might be terrified, but she faced her fears straight on.

"I…I care a great deal about you," Bobby said. "You…You mean…It's obvious…You…You saved me…You save me all the time. Not just now…All of the time since I met you…You've made me a better cop…A better man…My…All of my feelings right now…They're very confused…Right now…But before this…For a very long time…" He swallowed, and made the bravest confession of his life. "I love you."

He sat on the couch, stared on the carpet and listened to his heart pound. "This is it," he thought. "If she leaves…I can't do it…I can't make it…" He felt her soft hand on his cheek, and he looked up.

"I think," Alex said. "That's the first time a man has told me "I love you" first…I always take the lead…And it doesn't always lead to happy results."

Bobby's head spun. "Do…You…"

"'Fraid so. I love you too. Hey, don't pass out on me again. I don't want to have to eat that pizza all by myself."

Bobby rested his head back against the couch. He blinked and took several deep breaths. "It's…It's…So much is going on…It's…It's too much…"

Alex still sat next to him. Her hands hovered over him, but she didn't risk touching him. "Let's take it one step at a time," she said. "That's the only way I know how to deal with all of this."

"Ok." Bobby shut his eyes again. Alex tentatively and tenderly touched his cheek, and its warmth spread through him. He opened his eyes. "You're so brave…So strong," he said.

"Not brave," Alex snorted. "You know that I lean on you too."

He lifted his head and looked at her in wonder.

"Look, I don't want to get into a contest about who leans on who more," Alex smiled.

"I…I just hope…We don't lean on each other so much that we knock each other down," Bobby said.

"We won't," Alex said. "I swear we won't."

There was a knock at the door.

"Pizza," Alex said.

"I'm hungry," Bobby said. "I'm hungry," he repeated in surprise.

For several comfortable moments they ate the pizza. Alex was happy to see Bobby devour two slices. It was the most appetite he'd shown in some time.

"I guess," Alex asid. "That declarations of love make you hungry."

"I…I don't know…I haven't made a lot of declarations of love," Bobby replied.

Alex warily eyed the files on the coffee table. "You're just looking for patterns?"

"Yes…"

Alex considered whether she should bring up the subject of Bobby's possible interviewing of Caldwell and Linley. If Bobby hadn't been approached to do it, it might put the idea in his head. If he had been approached and hadn't told her, it would raise a potentially ugly issue between them.

"No one has talked to me about speaking with them," Bobby said softly.

Alex nearly choked on her tea. "How do you…"

Bobby shrugged. "Unfortunately…I've a good idea of how they think. I imagine they want to talk to me. I'm their unfinished project." He smiled bitterly. "And I guess they want to offer something in exchange…Like the location of victims' bodies…"

"Sometime…I wish you weren't quite so good at your job," Alex said shakily. "You'd do it, too, wouldn't you?"

Bobby fingered a pizza crust. He wished he hadn't eaten so much so quickly. "Not…Not if you tell me not to…"

Alex stared at him. Bobby had just handed control of the most important part of his life over to her.

"No," she said deliberately. "I won't do that. I won't make you deny yourself. I may not always like what you do, but your…devotion…to your job is one of the reasons I love you…"

"A…A lot of people," Bobby said softly. "They'd revel in that sort of power over someone. "My man loves me so much, he'll do anything for me." Stuff like that."

"I don't believe that," Alex said firmly. "That's emotional blackmail."

Bobby tilted his head. "There…There's a lot of anger behind that statement."

Alex frowned.

"I'm sorry," Bobby said. "I've gone too far…"

"No," Alex said. "If I ask you for honest, you deserve the same from me." She turned her glass in her hands. "I loved Joe…He loved me…I know that…But Joe…He'd use that line some times. "If you'd love me, you'd…"" She sat the glass down on the table. "Joe and I…We loved each other…But when I'm honest with myself…I don't know if we could have made it work. "I…I…was moving up faster than him. He was more than hinting that it was time for me to ease up and have a baby. And…And I wanted that. But I didn't want it because I had to prove that I loved him. The night before…Before…"

Bobby's hand reached out and covered one of hers. Alex stared down at their hands.

"We'd made up," Alex said. "It was a fight we kept having. And at some point…We were going to have that fight and not make up."

"Did…Do you feel guilty about that?" Bobby asked gently.

"Not about that particular fight," Alex said. "But the bigger fight it was part of…I don't know…I wanted kids…I wanted kids with Joe…But…I wanted them WITH Joe…Not FOR Joe…"

Bobby looked at her sympathetically. "That makes a lot of sense to me. But…I'm not sure I understand why people…At least some people…Have children…It seems to…I like kids, I mean…Some kids I love…But…I don't have any idea of how to be a parent…Or how anyone could…But…I didn't have the greatest examples…And it's really only been an issue a couple of times…"

Bobby looked terribly sad for a moment, and Alex's heart splintered. "What happened?" she asked gently.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "This…A woman…I…I thought I loved her…Maybe I did…We got to a point…I started to see a house and a yard and kids…The whole thing…And then I told her about my Mom…And I never saw her again…"

Alex winced.

"And there was Irene…You remember her?"

Alex nodded. She'd met the tall, graceful, funny brunette a few times, and liked her. She could also understand why Bobby liked her.

"She…She was the real deal…She wanted to marry me and have kids…The whole thing. She didn't leave when I told her about my Mom…But…Kids…I…I couldn't…I couldn't take the chance they…I saw what my Mom went through…"

"What about…"

"Adoption? And what happens when their father goes crazy or…or becomes a drug addict?" Bobby shook his head. "It…All of it's bad enough, but can you imagine what this would be like…."

"Bobby." Alex said gently. "Every kid…Every parent…Every person…It's a gamble…"

"I know…But with me…My family…My upbringing…What chance would a kid have? And…And I couldn't do that to her." He looked wildly around him. "How can I do it to you…I gotta…"

"No, Bobby." Alex clutched his arm. "You're a good man…"

"But…Now…After everything…It's too late…I…I…"

Alex dove in the deep end of the pool. She seized Bobby's hands. "Bobby…We…There's a lot of people who want to help you…I want to help you…I love you…"

He shivered. "But…But…Alex…I…I don't know…I love you…But…Everything…And after what they did to me. I don't know if…If I'll ever be able to…To…Even if…We're not supposed to…Even if we could…I don't know if…If I'll ever be able to…To…Physically…"

Alex felt as if she'd jumped into that deep pool without first learning how to swim. "Bobby…Bobby…Is that what happened? Did you remember what they did to you?"

He nodded slowly. He didn't look at her.

"Oh…Oh…Bobby…I'm in way over my head here." She wanted to run to find Huang, to find anyone who could help her and Bobby.

"I…I'm sorry…Oh, Alex…I…"

"Bobby." She released his hands and gently held his face. "I…I'm thrilled that you're talking to me….That you trust me…That's all good…Very good…Wonderful…But…I'm afraid…What if I do the wrong thing?"

Shaking, he raised his hands to place over hers. "I…I'm not sure there's a right thing to do here," he said softly. He leaned so that their heads touched. "Oh, God…I'm so tired…" His hands dropped to his sides.

"That's not surprising," Alex said. The storm seemed to be over. "I'm pretty wiped out, and I didn't start the day in the hospital."

"Alex…There's so much we have to talk about…"

"It can wait…You need to get some sleep…Or at least try to…"

"Ok…" He rose unsteadily. Alex gently took his arm and guided him to his bed. He didn't protest as she slipped his shoes and socks from his feet and helped him unbutton his shirt. He slid his pants off, and she helped him lift his legs into the bed.

"Alex?" he asked as she pulled the covers around him.

"Yea…"

"Could…Could you stay? At least until I…I fall asleep?"

She tenderly brushed his cheek. "I'll stay…I won't leave you…I'll be here when you wake up."

He closed his eyes and was soon deeply asleep. Alex slid off her own shoes and socks and carefully stretched out next to him. In a few seconds she joined him in a blessedly dreamless sleep.

END CHAPTER 29


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

"You don't think this is too soon?"

Bobby half smiled. "My answer's the same as it was five minutes ago, Eames. I can do this. I have to do this."

Alex opened her door. "Just remember…If it gets too much…You let me know…"

Bobby nodded and stepped from Alex's car. "I will…I promise."

"This is going to be weird," Alex said.

"Yea," Bobby admitted. "But…Let's face it…There's rarely anything normal about us."

It was very early, and they encountered very few people as they walked into One Police Plaza and rode the elevator to the eleventh floor. Neither had slept well the night before, and the coffee they carried was more important to starting their bodies than usual. They sat at their desks and turned on their computers. Alex had tried to deal with some of Bobby's mail and paperwork while he was on medical leave, but a heavy pile of paper and a long list of electronic material still waited for him. Bobby moved through them quietly and efficiently. Alex studied him, and Bobby became aware of her scrutiny.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Just…That first day…When Caldwell first contacted you…You were going through stuff…" She looked away.

"Eames…We can't…We can't let everything throw us. Ok?"

"Ok."

In spite of what Alex thought were constant reminders of what had happened to Bobby, the day went well. His calm, steady responses amazed her. The only sign she saw of any turmoil was a twitch in his jaw whenever anyone asked how he was doing. His delving into the latest files on Linley and Caldwell didn't faze him. Alex could've blessed Ross. The captain welcomed Bobby back with a matter of fact tone that let Bobby know he was missed and his return appreciated. George Huang appeared in the late afternoon as he'd promised.

"It's mostly been good," Alex said as Huang approached her.

"Mostly?" Huang said as he sat in a chair at Alex's nod.

"Yea…There's moments…When people welcome him back or ask him how he's doing…Or when he catches them staring…But he's been able to shake it off…Although I think he's getting tired…"

"Well, he's worked a full day," Huang said. "That's impressive."

Over Huang's shoulder, Alex saw Bobby moving towards them. His limp, which even before his kidnapping was always more pronounced when he was tired, was evident, and he made no effort to hide it. Huang's eyes followed her.

"Has he said anything about being in pain?"

"No," Alex said. "But Bobby doesn't admit to being in pain."

Huang nodded. Bobby saw the psychiatrist and stopped. For a moment he appeared to be weighing several options, including avoiding Huang, but he took a breath and resumed walking to his desk.

"Hello, Dr. Huang," Bobby said wearily but amiably. "Checking on your patient?"

"Yes," Huang replied in an equally amiable tone. "How are you?"

"Not bad," Bobby said as he sat. "Not as good as I hoped, but not as bad as I feared. And I wouldn't lie to you even if I could because I'm lousy at lying to you, and you've already spoken to Detective Eames."

A quick smile crossed Huang's face. "I wanted to see how you were doing. But I also wanted to speak to you…" He glanced at Alex.

"About something I wouldn't like?" Alex managed to control her voice.

"Probably," Huang admitted.

Bobby looked warily from Huang to Alex.

"Go, Bobby," Alex said with a resigned tone.

Huang didn't miss Bobby's grateful look back at Alex as they walked to an empty interview room.

"You don't mind us doing this here?" Huang asked as they entered the room.

"Everyone knows already, anyway," Bobby said as he shut the door.

"Detective Eames' opinion means a lot to you…"

"You know it does," Bobby said as he sat.

"You'll speak to her after we talk…"

"Oh, certainly…I've learned that if I can't tell her something, it's a very bad idea or thing," Bobby responded. He winced as he stretched.

"You aren't taking any pain medications?" Huang asked.

"No…Don't need them…Can't risk them…"

"You know that you can take them. You just need to be careful…"

"I don't think you're here to discuss my pain management," Bobby said politely. "So…What is it? Caldwell and Linley or Gage?"

"All of the above."

"Oh…It's a twofer," Bobby said.

"Detective…" Huang leaned across the table. "You don't have to deal with any of this…You're under no obligation…"

"Yes I am," Bobby said firmly. "My job is to protect people. And if I can't protect them, it's to bring the people who hurt them to justice. And…Whatever he's done…I owe Declan Gage." He leaned forward and concentrated on Huang, who knew at that moment why Bobby Goren was one of the most feared interrogators in the NYPD.

"What," Bobby asked. "Is going on?"

George Huang loved his job, but there were moments when he hated it. This was one of those moments. The psychiatrist wasn't sure if Bobby Goren's calm acceptance of the reports of Declan Gage's decline and Thomas Linley and Mark Caldwell's machinations made giving the detective the news better or worse.

"How bad is Gage? Would he recognize me?" Bobby asked.

"I didn't see him," Huang said. "His lawyer and doctor are very protective of him. But they spoke willingly to me when I mentioned your name. If you wanted to see Dr. Gage, I'm sure they'd arrange it. But they told me they weren't sure he'd recognize you. From what they told me, you might not recognize him."

Bobby stared at his hands. "I barely recognized him when I saw him before…"

Huang studied Bobby. For all of his education and experience, the psychiatrist wasn't quite sure how to treat the detective.

"I…I hate him," Bobby said forcefully. "He killed…He killed…He might as well have killed my brother…There wasn't much hope for Frank, but Gage took any that there was away…I know there was even less hope for Nicole Wallace, but he took that away too. Because of Gage's pride…arrogance…All of this…Happened to me…And…What happened to Alex…Eames…I…I almost lost her…And…But…He cared for me…He saw my talents. He praised me…No one ever praised me before him or like him. I…I can't hate him. I can't…Please…" He looked up at Huang, who'd rarely seen so much pain in anyone's eyes. "I…I can't figure this out…Please…"

Huang hadn't expected such revelations from Bobby Goren. The psychiatrist had waited a long time for such a moment, but its arrival threw him.

"I think," Huang said cautiously. "That you just gave a good assessment of your situation. Your attitude and actions regarding Dr. Gage are exceptional."

"Maybe for their stupidity," Bobby muttered.

"No," Huang said firmly. "Exceptional for their understanding…Tolerance…Kindness…For their recognition of all that's good and bad about Gage. Just because very few people could do it or understand it doesn't mean what you're feeling or doing is wrong."

Huang's words calmed Bobby. "I…I need to see him…I'll have to talk to Eames. If I can't talk about something…If I don't talk to her…It's never good."

"She'll be upset…"

"Yea…But if I can explain why to her…" Bobby said. "Maybe that' ll explain it to me…" He stared at his hands. "And what about Linley and Caldwell?"

"That can wait…"

"No…Please…I'd like to get it over with," Bobby said wearily. "It's much worse to have to wait and worry about it."

Huang sighed. "They each claim that they have many more victims. They'll tell where the bodies are if…"

"If I'll speak to them." Bobby ran his hand through his hair. "What do you think? Is this a real offer from them?"

"I don't believe Caldwell has hidden any victims," Huang said. "He's trying to save himself and make himself seem more important. But Linley…No one knows how many victims he has…He's fascinated by the fact you escaped…He's heard enough to know you're working again…I'm not sure he really believes that…"

"I'm not sure I am," Bobby said softly. "Let's face it…I'm working on a very limited basis…On one case…And that case only because I was the victim…"

"Which might make it more difficult for you," Huang said.

Bobby shrugged. "I guess I should be grateful for it. It lets me work…And that…And Eames…Keeps me alive and sane…"

"Detective Goren," Huang said. "I know that you're back at work because your captain and others want you back. And if you didn't want to stay with the NYPD, I know several agencies…"

"Everybody loves me," Bobby said. "As long as I do the work." There was no bitterness in his voice, just an acceptance of a fact. He waved a large hand as Huang got ready to protest. "Don't lie to me, Doctor. Don't…Look…What it comes down to is will it help if I speak with Linley and Caldwell? Will it find some victims?"

"Detective, you don't…"

"Yes…Yes I do. Will it help?"

"Yes," Huang conceded.

"All right." Bobby stood, and Huang knew all of the detective's defenses were on full alert. "If you could let the FBI know, I'll speak with Captain Ross…And Detective Eames…" Bobby sighed and turned to leave the room.

"Detective Eames is not going to like this," Huang said.

Bobby smiled sadly. "That is the understatement of the year."

END CHAPTER 30


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

Alex pretended to concentrate on the form in front of her. It was a trick she'd perfected in recent months, but her frequent glances at the interview room where Bobby and Huang met undercut her current efforts. She couldn't see the two men, no matter how she tried to twist or turn her body. After what seemed several house, Bobby finally emerged from the room. He was grim and white faced, and his limp appeared worse than when he'd entered the room. He seemed to be carrying a heavy weight. Huang, equally grim faced, followed Bobby. Alex was torn between wanting to rush to comfort Bobby or to confront Huang. As she was sitting in the middle of the Major Case Squad, neither move appeared to be a wise one. She waited for Bobby to reach their desks. Around his large bulk, she saw Huang enter Ross' office. She turned her attention to Bobby, who stared at some point behind her chair.

"Eames," he said in a low, tightly controlled voice. "I…Please…I need to talk to you."

Any anger Alex felt towards Bobby melted away in the face of his willingness to speak to her.

"Could we," Bobby continued. "Get out of here…"

"Neutral territory?" Alex asked.

"Yea…And one without so many eyes…"

"You got it." Alex turned off her computer. "But no serious talking in the car. We don't want any accidents."

He obeyed her. He said nothing as they rode in the elevator, walked to her car, and for the first blocks of the drive.

"Eames…Where…"

"I thought a place near your house…"

"I thought we said neutral territory…"

"It'll be neutral," she said. "But close enough to your house so you can retreat."

"You're pretty confident," he said. He tried for a light tone, but a tremor in his voice betrayed his tension.

"Bobby." Alex carefully maneuvered her car around a slow truck. "Whatever it is we're going to talk about…And I've got a pretty good idea what it is…I'm not going to abandon you."

He was silent for the rest of the trip. Alex thought she could hear the debate between his head—which knew he could trust her—and his heart—which was scarred from all the abandonments he'd suffered in his life. Alex found a parking spot near a pub they'd visited in the past. It possessed several nooks and crannies where it was possible to have a private conversation. Bobby silently followed her to one of those corners. Alex spoke to the waitress as they passed the young woman, and a plate of appetizers and a pitcher of soda quickly appeared on their table. After the waitress left, Bobby found himself wishing he'd let Huang speak to Alex.

"I thought," Alex said as she poured two glasses of soda. "We should stay away from alcohol."

"You…You can have it if you want, Alex," Bobby said. "It…It doesn't bother me…I really don't miss it as much as I thought I might."

"So," Alex said after she took a drink. "What is it? Gage…Or Linley and Caldwell?"

"Both." Bobby saw anger cross Alex's face. "Gage…" He decided to lead with what he thought would upset her the most. "Is dying. Huang told me…If I go to see him…He probably won't recognize me…But…I need to see him…No one…" Bobby swallowed. "Alex…I couldn't really explain this to Huang, and I don't think I can explain it to you…I can't explain it to myself…But Gage was a good man…I owe him so much…"

Alex sat quietly for several of the longest minutes of Bobby's life. "All right," she finally said. "But I'm going with you. Just like I'm going with you when you speak to Linley and Caldwell."

"You're a good detective, Alex Eames," Bobby said after a moment.

"Do you know that talking to them will help people?" Alex asked. "How do you know they're not just using you or getting some kind of sick thrill from this?"

Bobby took a long drink. He was starting to feel very tired, and hoped the caffeine and sugar would help him. "I…I don't really know," he admitted. "Huang…He thinks that Caldwell is trying to use me…But Linley…He's obsessed with me…I'm the one who got away…In return for me showing up, Linley says he'll talk about his victims. Tell where their bodies are…"

"And you have to do this because you're you." Alex appeared resigned to Bobby's decision.

"Uh…Yea…That explains it as well as anything," Bobby said. "I…I expected you to be a lot angrier about this."

"I am angry," Alex said softly. "But I love you because you're you. I can't ask you to change…"

Bobby's head fell into his hands. "You love me…You take care of me…And all I do is hurt you…"

"Don't," Alex said. Her hands reached for Bobby's. "Don't blame yourself. I want to help take care of you. And you aren't doing this to yourself. Other people are doing it to you."

Bobby looked up at her. "I want to get all of this over with," he said quickly. "As soon as I can. Then maybe I can get back to my life…And…And start one with you…"

"That gives me a great motive too," Alex said.

A great weight left Bobby's chest. "Ok…Ok…" He took a deep breath. "I'll see Gage first. He…He may not have much time…But…I don't want you to see him with me…There's too much…"

"All right." Alex's voice indicated that she clearly did not think this was all right, but that she would go along with Bobby's wishes. "But I'm right outside the door."

Bobby nodded. "And…I don't want you to go in with me with Linley and Caldwell."

"You're telling me not to do my job?" She controlled her voice well.

"No…No…It's just that…Like Gage…You'd be a distraction…I'd be afraid for you…I'm sorry…"

"Maybe," Alex said thoughtfully. "I'd show them that they have no control over you…That you don't belong to them."

Bobby considered her words. "No…Alex…You can't…Can't…"

"Dangle myself in front of them? Like you're doing?"

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "Alex…I…I can deal with it for me…But you…You mean too much to me…

"And you don't mean that much to me?" Alex asked gently.

Bobby's head fell into his hands. "Alex…No…Please…I…I…"

Her hands tenderly held his arms. "Take it easy, Bobby. It's just an idea. We're not in some competition over who loves each other more. But I think we might mention this idea to Huang and other people. But we need to get past Gage first."

Bobby wearily raised his head. "We…"

"Yea." Her right hand gently brushed his cheek. He shivered but didn't pull away. "You and me," she continued. "We're a team. Partners. Together.."

Bobby closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "It…It's not going to be easy."

"No," she admitted. "But WE can do it."

"Ok…"

END CHAPTER 31

Many thanks to all who've given me such fine reviews and added this and my other stories to your favorites and for naming me a favorite author. It's much appreciated.


	32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

"I've wasted too much of my life here," Alex muttered as she parked the car.

"It's not a cheery place, is it? Even on the most beautiful day," Bobby said. "And this is definitely not the most beautiful day."

"Hold on," Alex said. "Let me get the umbrella…"

Bobby waited for Alex to walk to the passenger door. It was a grey, cold, rainy day, so dark that at ten in the morning it looked like eight in the evening. The wind drove the rain into sharp, cold needles. Alex had urged Bobby to cancel this appointment, arguing that he wasn't in physical shape to deal with such nasty weather. He gently responded that Alex would think he wasn't in shape to deal with any kind of weather. He insisted that he had to make the interview, and that he'd resort to public transportation if he had to. The thought of Bobby waiting in the rain for a bus or pushing his way through a subway car to make it to Ryker's appalled Alex nearly as much as the thought of Bobby facing Declan Gage on his own.

"If you think I'm going to let you go alone to face that monster," Alex said fiercely. "I've got some pride, you know."

"Well, then, you better come with me," Bobby said calmly. "Because I'm going today."

"Does it have to be today?" Alex asked.

"Yes…For two reasons," Bobby answered. "One is that I want to get this over with. Two…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Gage is dying. His doctor speaks of days…If I don't go now…By the time another visit is approved…Gage will be dead."

The drive to Ryker's was very quiet. The weather forced Alex to concentrate on the road and traffic, and Bobby was lost in his thoughts.

"I didn't know he was that ill," Alex said when the rain and traffic eased.

"It…It happened fast…He…He's been going downhill, but lately…"

"He looked awful when I saw him," Alex said. "Although his mind…Frankly…I couldn't tell if he couldn't or wouldn't understand."

"He…He saw it…He saw how much…I cared for you."

"I'm not sure how much he saw anything beyond himself," Alex said. "When I saw him he was too obsessed with Sebastian."

"Don't worry," Bobby said. "Sebastian…Linley…Whatever his name…He has no more power over me than Gage has over you."

They were both silent as they moved through security. Alex made the process as easy as possible for Bobby. She was ready to play every and any card she had—her family and its connections; Bobby's Medal of Honor; the connection with the Sebastian cases: and the Buddy Boy network she usually despised so much—to help Bobby. She was pleasantly surprised to discover George Huang and Gage's lawyer and doctor were waiting for her and Bobby and had eased their entry.

"A nice welcoming committee," Bobby commented. "How is he?"

"Not well," the doctor replied. He was a young Asian man, and Alex wondered if he had taken this less than glamorous post to work off his student loans. "The truth is…He's dying…I have to tell you, Detective. He probably won't recognize you. He may not recognize anything. He may not be conscious."

"He…He's that bad?" Bobby asked.

"I'm not sure how much is his illness," the doctor said. "And how much is that he's given up."

"Dr. Gage's condition has nothing to do with you, Detective," Huang said gently as they approached the infirmary section where the critically ill prisoners were housed. "You were terribly injured and ill," Huang continued in the face of Bobby's silence. "No one could expect you to do more than you already have."

"What's Gage's legal status?" Alex asked the lawyer. In truth, she cared nothing about Gage's situation, but the question would take them away from the subject of his health.

"He's never going to see the inside of a courtroom," the lawyer said. He seemed happy to make some contribution to the proceedings. "It's not a real question now."

They'd finally reached the intensive care section, and the guard began to unlock the door. "Gage is in one of the more private areas," he said.

"Let me check on him first," the doctor said, and followed the guard.

"He's a good doctor," Bobby said thoughtfully. "Better than the usual prison medical personnel."

"Fong is a good man," Huang said. "He's interested in forensic psychiatry as a specialty, and he gets credit on his loans by working here."

Doctor Fong emerged from the ward. "He's not in good shape…I don't know if he's aware of anything around him."

"Bobby," Alex said.

"It's all right. It sounds like this may be a very short visit." Bobby moved toward the door, but turned back. "I'll be ok, Eames."

The door clanged shut behind Bobby with a heavy echo. He closely followed the guard into what passed for Ryker's critical car unit. The guard and Bobby walked past several cubicles where men moaned in pain or lay dazed with drugs. The guard handed Bobby a pair of latex gloves, which Bobby slipped on. In one of the beds, a skeleton moaned and cried. The guard stopped.

"It's ok, Alejandro," he said, not unkindly. "I'll be back in a few moments…"

The words calmed the man, and Bobby and the guard continued down the rows.

"Alejandro has dementia from AIDS," the guard said matter of factly. "I'm not sure where he is most of the time."

"He shouldn't…" Bobby mumbled.

"Be here? Probably not. Most of the guys here should be some place else. But there's no where for them to go. And most of them…Even sick…You don't want them on the streets. "

"Yea…What about Gage?" Bobby asked.

"Well…He wasn't the most popular guy…Very arrogant…But the last couple of weeks," the guard said. "The doctors have their schedule, but from my experience, he's going to be gone sooner rather than later."

They arrived at the last cubicle. It was a little larger than most of the others and had a window—a window covered by steel mesh, but a window nonetheless. Bobby tried to brace himself for Gage's appearance. He'd scarcely recognized the man when he'd visited him nearly half a year ago before his kidnapping, and he'd feared what the ensuing months had done to his former mentor. The guard pushed back the screen in front of the cubicle's entrance. Bobby took a deep breath and stepped forward. For a moment he didn't recognize the skeletal figure on the bed as Declan Gage; for part of that moment, he didn't recognize the figure as human. Tubes ran in and out of the thing, many of them connected to machines that bleeped and twitted and blinked. The figure stared blankly at the ceiling, and, in spite of everything Gage had done to him, taken from him, and nearly taken from him, Bobby was filled with pity.

"Is he in pain?" Bobby heard himself ask.

"I don't think so," the guard replied. "He's on a morphine drip."

Bobby watched the bony chest rise and fall.

"Here," the guard said, and pulled a metal chair to the side of the bed. "You can sit here. I'll be just down the hall if you need me. You're Bobby Goren, right?"

Bobby, his eyes focused on Gage, nodded.

"He talked a lot about you…You must mean a lot to him…" The guard checked the machines and monitors.

Bobby tried not to shiver. "Did…Did he ever mention his daughter?"

"Not when I was around…Where is she?"

"She…She died a few months ago…"

"Too bad…I'll leave you…"

Bobby sat carefully on the chair. He'd seen people die before. There was the reckless member of his Army boot camp squad who'd shot himself in the femoral artery while handling his rifle in the exact way their drill sergeant had told them not to. There was the bomb that destroyed the jeep and its occupants in front of him. There were incidents with the NYPD. And there was his mother. He'd sat with her through one of the longest and darkest nights of his life. After the stress and nightmares and hysteria of her last weeks, her last hours were remarkably quiet and peaceful. Once she revealed that Bobby's biological father might be a serial rapist and killer and raged at Bobby for forcing her to make the revelation, his mother fell back on her pillows and drifted away. He watched her chest rise and fall more slowly until it stopped. It happened so quietly that it was several seconds before Bobby realized she was dead.

Declan Gage's passing appeared to be on a more difficult course. Each breath was a struggle, and his claw like hands clutched at the sheets. Bobby wondered how the doctors and nurses managed to find a vein in the man's ravaged arms. Bobby leaned forward in the chair and brushed Gage's right hand. It felt like a leaf about to crumble into dust.

"Dec…" Bobby was compelled to touch Gage's hand even as it repelled him. "It…It's Bobby Goren…I…I don't know if you can hear me…Or understand me…"

The skeleton didn't respond.

"I…I came because…You…You did horrible things…You did them to me…But…I owe you…I owe you a lot…You…You showed me what I could be…How to use…What gifts I had…But…" Bobby's chest constricted, and it was several moments before he could speak again. "I…I can forgive just about everything…Nicole certainly…My brother…Framing me…Even…Screwing up the Sebastian case so he could come after and torture me…But what you did to Jo…And how that led to what happened to Alex…To Eames…I…I can't…I can't forgive you that…But I…I can't hate you…I've tried…I can't…I can hate what you did…But I can't hate you…"

The claw's nails dug into Bobby's hand. Bobby yelped in pain and surprise.

"Bobby," the skull rasped.

Bobby stared into eyes that pierced into him from another world. He tried to pull his hand away, but the claws clung to it.

"Bobby…You…You were the best…My son…I wish…You were my son…You avenged me…"

Bobby thought of Jo Gage, biting off her tongue to avoid her father and drowning in her blood and her father's manipulation and indifference.

"No…No…" Bobby struggled to free his hand. "I…I'm not your son…I won't let you claim me…The only person who can claim me is Alex…Alex saved me…I'm hers…"

"Bobby…No…You're free…" Gage's nails drew blood from Bobby's hand.

"No…You just gave me more things to carry…Only Alex lets me be free. She doesn't try to own me…I'm freer with her than I ever dreamed I could be…"

Bobby yanked his hand away from Gage's grasp. The older man's claw clutched at the air and then fell limply to his side.

"Bobby," Gage hissed. He took a long, desperate breath, and didn't move.

Bobby stood and called to the guard, who quickly appeared.

"I think he's gone," Bobby said softly.

The guard rushed into the cubicle. Bobby watched him check Gage's body and speak into his radio. Gage's doctor and lawyer appeared with a nurse within seconds.

"What happened?" the lawyer asked. There was no accusation in his voice.

"He knew I was here," Bobby said. "He…He said my name…Said I was free…And then…"

"It's not surprising," the doctor said. "He could've died at any time. We'll do an autopsy, but only because it's what we do in these case. And Dr. Gage wanted one. He thought his brain might be of particular interest."

Bobby fought against a laugh. Of course Declan Gage would think his brain was valuable.

"We can take care of things, Detective," the lawyer said kindly.

"Is there anyone…" Bobby began.

"No…But Dr. Gage was very specific about his wishes," the lawyer said. "He wished to be cremated and for there to be no memorial services."

Bobby stared at his mentor's ravaged body.

"There's nothing for you to do, Bobby," Alex said softly. Bobby wasn't aware that she and Huang had followed the others to the cubicle. "C'mon…Let's get out of here…"

Bobby looked from Gage's doctor to his lawyer.

"Detective Eames is right," the lawyer said. "There's nothing for you to do. It was very kind of you to come here at all."

"Yes," the doctor agreed. "This meant a great deal to Dr. Gage."

Alex carefully placed a hand on Bobby's arm. "C'mon," she said, and gently guided him away from the cubicle. She nodded at Huang, who stepped out of their way. She led him through the wing and out of the infirmary. Bobby was silent, only nodding to acknowledge the guards and officials they encountered. They were nearly back in Manhattan before Alex broke the silence.

"Bobby…I'm not going to ask if you're ok, because…"

"Because I'm so clearly not?"

"I…I'm not sure what "normal" is…I'm not sure anything's been anywhere near that since all this started," Alex said. "I'm calling Ross and letting him know not to expect us in today…I don't think he thought we'd come in anyway."

Bobby stared out the window. Alex's cell rang.

"Yes, Captain," she answered. She glanced at Bobby. "Thank you, Sir. I planned to do that…He's…Well…He's doing as well as you might expect. Yes, Sir…Thank you…"

"Ross checking up on me?" Bobby asked flatly.

"He knows about Gage," Alex said. "He…He's worried about you…Said for you to take as much time as you need."

He was quiet until they neared Alex's neighborhood. "Where…"

"I'm taking you to my place," Alex said. "You're not going to be alone right now. I'm going to try to get some food inside you, and you're going to try to get some rest."

He offered no protests. Alex wished he'd say anything. Even grief or anger would be better than his terrible quiet. He said nothing for the rest of the trip and wordlessly followed her into her house. He allowed her to take his rain splattered coat from him and stood uncertainly as she hung it up.

"You're cold," she said. "Go sit on the couch and wrap the blanket around you. I'll make us some coffee."

He nodded and shuffled away. Alex went to the kitchen and considered calling Huang. But Bobby had ignored the psychiatrist's overtures at Ryker's, and she thought there hadn't been any change in his attitude in the minutes since they'd left. Calling Huang now might place her on the side of his opponents in Bobby's eyes. She had to move carefully. She took a deep breath, picked up the cups of coffee, and walked into the living room. Bobby was slumped on one end of the couch.

"Coffee," she said. "Strong, with lots of sugar."

As he reached up for the coffee, she saw that his hand shook. It shook so badly that Alex wrapped her hand around his to steady it. His hand was terribly cold.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Good," Alex said as she sat on the other end of the couch. "You can speak."

Bobby smiled weakly and took a long drink of his coffee.

"So…What's going on?" Alex asked gently. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Bobby stared into his coffee. He took another drink and very deliberately and carefully placed the cop on the table next to the couch. Alex noticed that he held the cup with two hands. He sat back.

"I…I don't know…How…What…I feel," he said. His voice was very low, and Alex leaned forward to hear him. "I…I'm not sure…If I can feel anything at all…"

She moved tentatively towards him. "I…I don't know…I'm not an expert in psychology…And I'd never say that I can explain you…It's one of the things I love about you. But if ever a man deserved to feel shell shocked…God…Bobby…A lesser man wouldn't be here…And…You're good…You're helping people…You're a brave, good man."

Bobby shivered. "It's…It's …Alex…I…I can't feel…Anything…Except…I…I'm scared…So scared…Please…"

Alex quickly set her coffee down and reached for him. She wrapped her arms around him. He feebly struggled for a moment, but finally fell so that his head rested in her lap.

"It's ok, Bobby…I'm here…I'm here, and I'm glad I'm here. I'm glad I can help you. That I get to help you. I don't know how, but we'll make everything all right."

She reached for the blanket that covered the couch and carefully draped it over him. She held him and tenderly ran her fingers through his graying curls.

"Oh, God," she thought. "How's he going to face them? How am I going to help him?"

END CHAPTER 32

My depiction of the Ryker's hospital wing is purely my own. I know there's an infirmary, but that's about it.


	33. Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

Over the next days, Bobby disappeared into a shell. He went through the motions of being alive. He went to work. He ate—or at least he nibbled at food when Alex and others reminded him. He slept—or at least tried to sleep. He spoke with Dr. Huang, but said very little. He never started a conversation and said few words during one. Alex watched with growing despair as he became less and less Bobby, less and less human. His work, at least, was brilliant. He found a pattern of disappearances of young women in upper New York state and matched it with a time period when Thomas Linley was in the area. Bobby tied that knowledge to what was known about the discoveries of the bodies of Sebastian's victims, and authorities in the area found three sets of remains. The physical evidence had deteriorated, but enough remained to demonstrate the bodies were all Sebastian's victims. The FBI agents working the case regarded Bobby with awe. Part of this came from the fact Bobby had survived Sebastian, but their reverence grew as they watched him work the cases.

"He's a great detective," one young agent told Ross and Alex one morning. "I'm surprised the Bureau hasn't tried to get him."

"Goren is very loyal to the NYPD," Ross said.

"More than the NYPD is to him sometimes," Alex muttered as she walked past the two men.

Declan Gage, at least, no longer physically haunted Bobby. There were no more trips to Rykers to confront him. There was no funeral, no memorial service, nothing to mark Gage's departure from this world. "Nothing," Alex thought. "Except Bobby Goren's ravaged mind."

Alex and George Huang watched Bobby closely to make sure he didn't return to alcohol or drugs or fall into the depths of depression. But Bobby refused to take anything, not even an aspirin, and drank nothing stronger than coffee. Alex wished he would take some of his prescribed painkillers. It broke her heart to watch him trying to hide his physical and mental pain behind a mask of seeming numbness.

She studied him as they sat in one of One PP's finest conference rooms and listen to a FBI forensics expert describe the results of an autopsy on one of the bodies Bobby helped find. She wondered that Bobby could bear to hear about the horrible torture the young woman endured. She looked around the large table. At least half of the people there were useless baggage, with representatives from the Chief of Detectives' office, several FBI agents, and members of several unknown organizations ranking in that category in Alex's mind. All of these people and their agendas were why this meeting was taking place in a luxurious setting. Alex knew the case would be better served if the few FBI personnel who know what was actually going on, Dr. Huang, Bobby and she were meeting in an interview room at Major Case. She caught Ross' eyes, and felt a guilty pang. Ross had done and was doing everything he could to protect Bobby from the Brass' demands, the FBI's appeals, and the press' cries, and he'd done it while running the rest of Major Case.

"I'll have to make this up to him somehow," Alex thought.

The expert concluded his presentation with an effusive expression of thanks to Detective Goren. A discussion of what step to take next followed, but the voices stopped when Bobby leaned forward and indicated his desire to speak. Beyond presenting his results, Bobby rarely spoke in informal sessions, let alone a formal one like this. Even the superiors recognized this was something unusual. Bobby calmly and clearly explained that the discovery of these bodies gave the investigation a rare advantage over Linley.

"Up to now," Bobby said. "He's always been in control. But now we've discovered something…"

"You discovered something," Huang said, and several people around the table nodded. Alex wanted to hug the psychiatrist.

Bobby shrugged. "Someone would've seen it," he said. "Anyway…I think we need to reveal this…First to Caldwell…Show him that his mentor isn't quite the genius he thinks…We may learn something about Linley from Caldwell…And then confront Linley with what we know already and what we learn from Caldwell…"

There were nods and sounds of agreement with Bobby's words.

"And…" Bobby pointedly avoided looking at Alex. "I think I should speak with both Caldwell and Linley…"

A battle followed his words. Alex and Huang led the forces arguing that this one of the worst ideas they'd ever heard. Alex noted that Ross was one of their lieutenants. As the argument raged around him, Bobby leaned back in his chair and watched. He refused to look at Alex. When the air finally cooled a little, Bobby leaned forward.

"Look," he said in a calm tone that maddened Alex. "We know they want to talk with me…I may be the only person they will talk to…I think I can get them to tell me where other bodies are. Or at least give us some hints where they may be."

Before Alex could trust her voice, Ross spoke.

"Detective. You'd be dangling yourself out like bait for them to attack. We don't know what we'd get in return. You've already done so much…Faced so much…"

"Yes," Bobby answered quickly. "But it's the best…The quickest…Way we have of finding victims and helping survivors."

"Detective," Ross said. "These men are capable of…"

"With respect, Sir," Bobby said softly. "We all know what they're capable of. Me especially."

A terrible quiet descended over the room. After a moment, the FBI agent officially in charge of the case cleared his throat. "We'll discuss your offer, Detective Goren…And give it serious consideration…" Alex wanted to cry out in protest; she though she heard a small groan from Ross. "And thank you for all you've done on this case," the man continued. "There's no question we'd have very little without your work."

The Chief of Detectives' representative looked distinctly unhappy.

Bobby smiled sadly and closed his binder. "Thank you, Sir," he said and rose from his chair. He left the room and headed to the elevators as quickly as his still recovering body allowed him. Today he had no wish to discuss the case or anything else with anyone. He moved so quickly that he wasn't sure if Alex followed him. He reached the elevators and wondered if his body could stand running down the stairs to the eleventh floor. One of the elevators pinged open, and Bobby found himself face to face with the Chief of Detectives. The icy blast from the Chief nearly caused him to shiver, but Bobby recovered.

"Excuse me, Sir," Bobby said as he stepped back and to the side. He nearly stepped on Alex, who'd followed him from the conference room. Ross and Huang were close on her heels.

"Detective," the Chief said, and pressed past Bobby.

The head FBI agent appeared in front of the Chief. "Detective Goren is a remarkable investigator," he said.

Bobby turned to the elevator, but it doors shut in front of him. "Damn," he thought. He turned back to face the Chief and the FBI agent, and saw Alex, Ross, and Huang.

"You may have some competition for his services," the FBI man continued. "His work on this case is very impressive, and it hasn't escaped the attention of my superiors in Washington."

Bobby desperately wished one of the elevator cars would come or, failing that, that the floor would open up and swallow him.

"That would be very difficult," Ross said. "Since as long as I'm head of Major Case, Detective Goren will be wanted and needed."

The Chief managed to control his emotions, but Alex looked at Ross with undisguised admiration and gratitude. Bobby stared at his feet, not sure if he'd really heard the words of praise from his captain.

One of the elevator doors finally opened, and Bobby rushed into its embrace. "Thank you," he said. "But I think you're overestimating my contributions."

Alex and Ross joined him in the elevator. Bobby huddled against the back wall.

"Detective," Ross said deliberately. "There's no way anyone could overestimate your contributions to this case. There wouldn't be a case without you. Your willingness to speak with Caldwell and Linley…It's duty beyond any expectations."

Bobby shifted uncomfortably. "It…It's my job, Sir…If I'm coming back…I have to do this."

The elevator reached the eleventh floor, but Ross pressed the button to hold the door closed. "What you're doing goes well beyond the usual for the job," he said. "I could show you the thank you letters we've received from the families of the women whose bodies we've already found. This goes well beyond the usual, Goren." Ross released the button; the door opened; and Ross stepped out of the elevator. Bobby, baffled and exhausted, started out, but Alex stopped him with a gentle touch on his arm.

"C'mon," she said. "Let's grab a break. Go somewhere where there aren't any FBI agents or NYPD Brass to annoy us."

He slumped against the elevator wall and said nothing as Alex led him out of One PP and to a corner booth in a nearby coffee shop. Their coffee arrived before Bobby spoke.

"I…I haven't been very good to you lately, Eames…Alex." He held his head in his hands. "I…I'm not sure where we are right now…The professional or the personal…"

"I think we're at the point where they meet and blur," Alex said.

"I'm afraid that in my life that's become a big place." Bobby stared into his cup.

"You did a pretty good job of keeping things separate…Until Jo Gage took me," Alex said softly.

"I musta been better at it than I thought," Bobby said. "It…It always seemed to take up so much of my energy. And then…Everything collided into everything else…You saw what happened. It hit you more than anyone else."

"Remember," Alex said gently. "We agreed…No competition over who had a worse time."

"Right…But I feel like I'm laying so much on you…"

"I'm glad you're talking to me, Bobby. This is what I want."

"These last few days…It's not that I didn't want to talk to you…It was…I couldn't talk to you…I…Sometimes I felt too much…There were so many things banging around my head…And others…Sometimes I wasn't sure if I felt anything. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't talk to Huang either." Bobby shook his head. "Those were uncomfortable sessions." He smiled wanly at Alex. "At least I could talk about work with you."

Alex leaned across the table. "Bobby…How do you feel?"

"I…I don't need any drugs or alcohol," he said. "Don't feel bad," he said in response to her guilty look. "You and Huang are right to worry about that. But I think I'm ok in that area. I wish…I wish I could get more and better sleep. If I could just get through a night without a nightmare…Or go to bed and not worry about one coming…If I could just sleep more than a few hours…You…You help so much. I don't think I could sleep at all if you weren't there…"

"You want to go home and try to get some sleep now?"

"I…I don't know," Bobby said. "It's strange…When I'm at work…I have to relive everything…But…I can deal with it there…But when I'm away from the job…It's much worse…"

"You really think facing them will help you?" Alex asked.

"I don't know. I don't know if how it affects me is even important. I have to do it because it's my job and it'll help the victims' families. If I can do my job, I win."

"I can understand that," Alex said gently.

END CHAPTER 33

My apologies for the delay in posting an update to this story


	34. Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

The news that Mark Caldwell, dubbed Sebastian, Jr., by the press, was being brought to One Police Plaza for an interview was a closely guarded secret. As a result, everyone at One PP knew about it. Almost everyone in the NYPD knew it. Caldwell spent nearly a month in the hospital before his transfer to Ryker's, where he reportedly was not enjoying his stay. Caldwell had never done hard or extended time, and for all of his reported intelligence, the man did some stupid things. Already possessing a large target on his back because of his celebrity status, Caldwell alienated the guards and other inmates with his constant refrain of complaints over his treatment and flaunting of his brain. Only the threat of the unhappiness of their superiors if something happened to their prized prisoner prevented the guards from leaving Caldwell a little too long in the exercise yard or forgetting for a few minutes with other inmates.

One of Caldwell's most frequent demands was to talk with Thomas Linley or to get information about Robert Goren, the man who got away. Unless the task force thought it might help the case, the first scenario was highly unlikely. But everyone agreed that having Robert Goren interview Caldwell might be extremely beneficial. Everyone, that is, except Alex Eames. A great deal about the future of the Sebastian case depended on what would happen in one of the Major Case Squad's interrogation rooms this morning. The press hadn't heard of Caldwell's appearance in Lower Manhattan, and the serial killer groupies were blissfully unaware of his movements. But there were more than enough members of the FBI and the NYPD, psychologists and psychiatrists, and others to swell the population of One PP to several times its normal size.

Alex Eames, who thought she might be one of the few people inside Major Case who actually belonged there, stood at the door of an interview room prepared to repel any invaders. A few brave or ignorant souls had attempted to enter the room, but retreated in the face of Alex's furious defense. Behind her, seated quietly at a table reviewing his notes, was the invaders' target. Bobby Goren, wearing one of his best suits and newly shaved, was unnaturally still. Alex thought of how much that calm exterior cost Bobby. She was determined that no one would enter the room and disturb his preparations for battle. He'd selected his armor with great care that morning, choosing his tie with the the same care a knight might take in selecting a sword. In spite of the weight he'd managed to gain back, he still needed a few pounds to fill out the suit ("Not a diet I'd recommend," Bobby had said to someone who'd asked how he'd lost weight.), and there were dark shadows under his eyes. Alex hoped that Caldwell would be too self absorbed to notice these and other signs. As the day of his scheduled encounter with Caldwell grew closer, Bobby's already erratic sleep patterns became worse. She stayed with him or brought him to her house every night. He slept marginally better in her presence. When he had nightmares—almost a nightly occurrence—she'd gently help him wake up and speak softly to him until he stopped shivering and sweating. She wasn't sure if Bobby had gotten any sleep last night. When she woke up several times from her own light and troubled sleep, Bobby was wide awake.

"I know," Bobby said, reading her thoughts. "I don't have to do this."

Alex sighed and turned to face him. "I'm glad I know how you do that. It's a good trick."

Bobby smiled sadly. "It can be very effective…And…You know I do have to do this."

"I know," Alex said. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it…"

There was a knock at the door, and Alex turned to see a young FBI agent peering in the room. Alex gave him a withering look that had sent several higher ranking men scurrying away. To punctuate the look, she closed the blinds covering the door.

"Eames," Bobby said. "The poor guy is just doing his job. He's probably been sent to tell me Caldwell's here."

"Maybe," Alex said sourly. Several of the people she'd earlier blocked from the room were supercilious administrators who wanted to be able to say they'd spoken with Detective Goren. She only hoped that at the end of the day all of these people would want to be associated with him.

"It's time," Bobby said and stood. He gathered his notes into his leather binder.

"You're sure you don't want me in there?"

"You'll know if I need you to come in there. You'll be fine. I'm not worried about you."

"What are you worried about?" Alex asked gently. "You?"

"Some," he admitted. "Caldwell's the real wild card. I'm only going to get this one shot at him. I don't mean to sound egotistical, but I think I'm the only person he'll talk to. Eames…That…That doesn't sound too much like…like…"

Alex walked over to him. "You're nothing like Gage…Nothing."

"You gotta admit," he said softly. "A man who thinks he's the only one…"

"Gage," Alex said firmly. "Was a monster trying to preserve his fame and status. You're doing this because we can't think of another way."

"I…I think I knew that," Bobby said. "I…I just needed to hear it from someone I trust."

"Well, I'm glad you trust me. That means a lot to me. I know how hard it is for you to trust someone."

There was a soft knock on the door, and Alex, ready to drive off another intruder, turned and looked through the blinds to find Captain Ross standing warily outside. She opened the door, and Ross walked in.

"Caldwell's in the building," he said. "They're taking their time with him and making the search of him very thorough. Very. He's going to be very unhappy when he gets up here."

Bobby smiled sadly. "I guess it's time…Uh…Captain…I don't want to run into…"

"Don't worry, Detective," Ross said firmly. "Eames and I will run interference."

"Thank you," Bobby said. He stood and followed Alex and Ross from the room.

Shooting warning looks at anyone who showed the slightest sign of approaching Bobby, Alex and Ross led Bobby to the interrogation room. Alex stood uncertainly as Bobby started to enter the room. She wanted to hug him, but settled for placing a hand on his arm. "Be careful in there…"

Bobby turned to her. "I will…I know you've got my back…" He strode into the room.

Ross joined Alex in front of the one way mirror. "I've managed to fight off the FBI and Brass who wanted to be here," he said.

"Thank you," Alex said.

"We'd just have to worry about them banging in if they heard or saw something unusual…Which…Considering that it's Goren in there…There's going to be something unusual…But I'm not letting anyone who doesn't know what they're doing in there…"

Alex's eyes remained focused on Bobby. He was carefully placing a series of files in a neat line on the table. Alex and Ross knew that the files contained photos and information on Sebastian's most recently discovered victims.

A uniform approached Ross. "We're ready to bring Caldwell in," he said.

"Check with Detective Goren," Ross said, his eyes not leaving Bobby. "Play it the way he wants."

The uniform nodded and left. A few moments later he entered the interrogation room and speak to Bobby, who quietly digested the information. He nodded, and the uniform left the room. Bobby looked up and down the carefully arranged rows of files and then sat. Alex thought she could bounce a quarter off his stiffly held shoulders. "C'mon, Bobby," she thought. "You can do this…"

END CHAPTER 34

Apologies for the short length of this chapter, but it was a necessity.


	35. Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

The door leading from the holding cells opened, and two uniforms guided Mark Caldwell into the room. Bobby didn't acknowledge him, keeping his eyes focused on the table. Caldwell's lawyer, a young, neatly dressed man, sat next to his client, who ignored him. Alex hadn't seen Mark Caldwell since he lay bleeding on a basement floor. The orange prison jumpsuit never made anyone look good, but Caldwell looked only marginally better than he did when he was on that floor. His appearance wasn't helped by his shaved head and the dark circles under his eyes. He seemed, in spite of his swagger, small and diminished. Caldwell leaned back in his chair as far as his restraints allowed, but his attitude seemed to be that of a small boy trying to play a part too old and big for him.

There was a long silence, finally broken by the lawyer. "Detective…"

"So, Mark." Bobby ignored the lawyer. "I understand you're having a rough time at Ryker's."

Caldwell shifted in his chair.

"My client is a target," the lawyer said. "Because of the crimes with which he's been charged…"

"And the ones I know he's guilty of," Bobby said calmly. "Of course, Mark, we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Tom Linley."

Caldwell ignored his lawyer's warning look and leaned forward. "I know what you all want. I won't say anything against Thomas."

"That's great loyalty, Mar," Bobby said. "I've heard about that, of course. I told the other agents and detectives that you're devoted to Tom."

A satisfied smirk on his face, Caldwell leaned back in his chair.

"And too much under his influence," Bobby continued.

"I wasn't under his influence," Caldwell said, leaning forward again. "I've told everyone that. Thomas taught me…"

"So why do you want to talk with me?" Bobby asked.

"You wanted to talk with me…"

"No…No…I could care less," Bobby said. "C'mon, Mark…You wanted this…I know your lawyer doesn't want you to do this."

The lawyer frowned.

"So, why did you want to talk to me? I'm here. But unless you start talking, I won't be here long. Unlike you, I can leave any time I want. I can do anything I want. Last night… I had sushi…"

Alex knew that wasn't true. They'd shared Italian last night, or at least Alex ate Italian and Bobby moved the food around his plate. Bobby hadn't eaten sushi since Jo Gage had been arrested.

"Tom introduced you to sushi, didn't he? But neither of you have had a chance to enjoy it lately. But me…I can have sushi…Anything I want…"

Caldwell leaned forward. "I'm surprised you can eat anything…And if I'd had my way, you wouldn't have had enough stomach left to eat anything…"

Bobby laughed—a hollow, empty laugh to Alex, but a laugh nonetheless—and tilted his head. He scanned Caldwell as if the younger man was a bug not meeting Bobby's high standards. "You didn't have your way, did you? Tom took care of that. You're here because of him." Bobby straightened and gave Caldwell a goofy smile.

"Thomas understands me!" Caldwell declared. "He helped me find my true talents…"

"Your true talents? That's a laugh. One girl…That's all you got, Mark…And why did Tom have you contact the police? He was using you, Mark…Using you to get to me…"

"No!" Caldwell lurched towards Bobby, but the chains held him. "He outsmarted you…He outsmarted all of you! He's got bodies you'll never find!"

"But we found some, Mark." Bobby flipped open one of the files. "Even after my time with you, I was able to figure out his patterns." Bobby flipped open another file, and the lawyer flinched. "We found all of these bodies…" Bobby methodically flipped open the files as he spoke. "In the last months. Tom's clever, Mark…But not as clever as he thinks. Not as smart as he told you he was…"

Caldwell stared at the photos. "No…No…" he muttered. "It's a trick…You haven't found…"

"Look at the locations, Mark," Bobby said as if he spoke to a stubborn child. "Did Tom trust you enough to tell you where he put his bodies? Do those photos match those places?"

Caldwell looked frantically from one photo to another. "No…Thomas…Thomas is smart…Thomas cares about me…"

Bobby gave his hollow laugh again. "Sounds to me like Tom cares about as much for you as Declan Gage did for me."

Caldwell's head shot up.

"Ah…You recognize the name," Bobby smiled. "Looks like our mentors were each other's Great White Whales."

Alex's heart pounded. Bobby had just exposed one of his most raw and vulnerable spots.

"Tom kept talking about him, didn't he?" Bobby said. "You really didn't want to come after me, did you?"

"You were a lousy fuck," Caldwell said savagely.

Alex' hand flew to her mouth. Besides her, Ross winced. Only the slightest shiver betrayed any of Bobby's feelings.

"Well," Bobby said after a beat. "You didn't see me at my best. The point is…You know," he said. "I bet you didn't want to hurt Marian Brewster. I bet you'd never have become a killer if you hadn't run into Tom."

"I could've done this without him!" Caldwell fought against the restraints. His lawyer moved to warn him, but Caldwell glared at him.

"I wonder…How much did Tom do to Marian? I don't remember him really doing anything to me. I wonder if he can do anything," Bobby ruminated. "He's old…He's lost it…And he used you to do what he couldn't…"

"He…He's my teacher…I owe him…"

"Owe him?" Bobby snorted. "Have you heard from him since you've been in Ryker's?"

"You've kept him away from me…We can't talk…"

"Hate to break it to you, Mark," Bobby said. "But Tom isn't worried about you. He doesn't even talk about you. When you were in the hospital, he never asked about you. Not once. I think he's forgotten you."

Caldwell fell back in his chair.

"Tom only cares about himself and his reputation. I know…Gage was so concerned about his reputation. He was willing to sacrifice anyone or anything."

"Including you," Caldwell tried to snarl, but doubt had clearly invaded his mind.

"Yea…But Tom's abandoned you. You know," Bobby leaned forward. "He's doing pretty well. FBI agents hovering around him. Reporters want to talk to him. Groupies sending him stuff…Wow!" Bobby waved his hand. "You wouldn't believe the stuff. Was that what Tom promised you, Mark?"

"People know my name," Caldwell insisted. "They know me…"

"As Sebastian, Jr.," Bobby said.

Caldwell stared at him. "What?"

"That's what they call you in the press," Bobby said. "Sebastian, Jr….Mark Caldwell…Sebastian, Jr. Sometimes they don't even call you Mark Caldwell. Just Sebastian, Jr." Bobby laughed again. "Tom even took your identity."

Caldwell stared at his hands.

"You know, Mark," Bobby said conspiratorially. "If Tom manages to convince everyone that you knew about his other killings…The states outside New York…The ones that have the death penalty…If Tom cuts a deal…You could be facing a death penalty. For something you had nothing to do with."

Caldwell stared at Bobby, and then at his lawyer.

"Mark…" the lawyer said. "This detective isn't your friend…."

"Mark and I have a bond you wouldn't know anything about," Bobby said. "We were betrayed by our teachers. And…" Bobby looked at the lawyer sympathetically. "You're a decent lawyer, but do you know who Tom has, Mark?" His attention returned to Caldwell, who focused on Bobby with frightening intensity.

"Who?" Caldwell asked.

"Very famous…Very high powered…Paid for by a publisher of true crime books. He hopes to get Tom's story…A story that won't include you, Mark…And that lawyer…He'll see that Tom gets the best deal possible…He'll play the jurisdictions against each other and make sure Tom doesn't get near Death Row…While you…"

Caldwell clenched and unclenched his fists.

"I bet," Bobby continued. "You lawyer has told you that you can't trust Tom…I be he told you that you should cut a deal with us…But you haven't…Because you're loyal to Tom. He doesn't deserve such loyalty. He got you in this mess. He's left you in it. He's abandoned you. Just like all your fathers did."

Caldwell stared at him. "What do know about…Tom told me about yours…"

Alex's heart jumped into her throat. Did Linley know about Mark Ford Brady? Did Caldwell?

If Bobby feared that Caldwell knew about Brady, he showed no signs of it, or of being upset by the reference to the man he thought was his father.

"Yea," Bobby said ruefully. "We got some wonderful role models. Abusive, self-absorbed, selfish, gamblers, alcoholics…Abandoned us for other kids, women, pleasures…But you have a chance to get back at them, Mark. Your father…Your stepfather…Tom…And all those women…Your mother…Your grandmother…Tell us your story…Tell us…And tell the world…"

A terrible gleam entered Caldwell's eyes.

"Tell us," Bobby continued. "And get to Tom before he gets to you…"

"Yea," Caldwell said slowly. "Take control…Show them…Show them all…I…I can tell you…What Tom told me…What he did…Where he left bodies…"

Alex saw a hitch in Bobby's shoulders as a quick wave of relief swept through him. She felt suddenly light headed, and she wasn't sure if Ross stepped closer to her to give her support or if she briefly leaned against him.

"Mark." Caldwell's lawyer stepped in to do his job. "Don't say anything until I get you a deal in writing…"

"I trust him," Caldwell insisted. "Like he said…We have a bond…"

"Listen to him, Mark…You can trust him too," Bobby said. "I know you want to tell your story…To tell the truth…But we want it to work for you…Ok?"

"All right," Caldwell said reluctantly. "But I tell my story soon…And I tell it to you…"

Alex shivered; Ross sighed.

"It's a deal," Bobby said.

Caldwell's lawyer had been debating with the FBI, the NYPD, and other agencies for some time, and a deal was quickly in place. To Alex's dismay, Bobby remained in the interrogation room with Caldwell, and to Ross and several other officers' dismay, Bobby warned Caldwell of possible problems with any deal that might be made.

"There's a lot of people with a lot of interest in this case," Bobby explained. "Someone might not want to sign off on it. Your lawyer will explain all of this…"

"You'll tell Thomas about this?" Caldwell asked eagerly.

Bobby fought off the image of Jo Gage urging him to "Tell my Dad everything" in his head. "I'll tell him," Bobby said.

"You know," Caldwell said casually as he leaned back in his chair. "I thought you had a lot of guts…All we did to you…All I did to you…And you stayed quiet…"

In spite of his pounding heart and swimming brain, Bobby remained outwardly calm. He shrugged. "Well, I knew Tom got off on screams…I didn't want to give him the satisfaction."

"Yea…Frustrated the hell out of him." Caldwell smiled. He might have been discussing a football game. "'Course…I'd never gone for a guy before. Neither had Tom. He told me there was at least one guy he'd killed. He'd got in his way. Tried to save a girl…Something like that. Imagine caring enough about a bitch to get in the way of a guy with a big, jagged knife."

"Imagine," Bobby said softly.

Caldwell's lawyer, looked very satisfied, finally returned, accompanied by a brigade of other lawyers, FBI agents, NYPD officers, and representatives from several legal jurisdictions and agencies. Caldwell reveled in the attention, so much so that he gradually forgot about Bobby. Using several maps, Caldwell began to show the sights where Linley had told him there were bodies. As Caldwell expansively held court, Bobby moved further and further away until he was near the room's door, where he ran into Alex. His eyes begged her to help him escape.

"C'mon," she said as led him out of the room.

Bobby kept his head lowered as Alex guided him away from the interrogation room and the bull pen. He felt the stares bore into him. Alex led him to a tiny room that barely held a small table and two chairs. She pulled one of the chairs away from the table, and Bobby collapsed in it. He held his head in his hands.

"Oh, God…Eames…Alex…I…I'm so tired…I…I think I'm going to be sick…"

Alex seized a wastebasket and held it up to him. He threw up. When he finally stopped, Alex placed the basket in a corner and sat in the chair next to him. He slumped across the table, his head resting on his outstretched arms. His skin was damp with sweat, and he shivered. His eyes were closed.

"Bobby?" Alex tenderly brushed his forehead. "Are you…" The idea of asking if he was all right seemed horribly cruel and stupid to her.

"I…I'm sorry," he said in a painfully low and ragged voice. "You…You have to keep taking care of me…"

There was a soft, hesitant knock at the door. Alex considered not responding to it, but finally stood and strode to the door. In full attack mode, she opened it, ready to fight anyone who might be ready to move on Bobby. Captain Danny Ross nearly took a step backward when he saw her.

"Eames," he said, and held up his hands in what he hoped she'd recognize as a sign of surrender and peace. "How is he?"

Alex glanced at Bobby, who showed no signs of being aware of Ross' presence. "He…He's sick…"

Ross sniffed the air. "He threw up…I don't blame him…"

"Yea." Alex stepped out of the doorway. She decided she could trust Ross. "And he's still not so good." She stepped back to Bobby. "How'd you find us?"

"One of the FBI guys saw you come back here," Ross answered. "I cut him off from following you."

"You might have prevented a murder," Alex said.

Ross smiled sadly. He stepped closer to Bobby, who still didn't acknowledge the captain's presence. "Detective," Ross said with surprising gentleness. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Bobby blinked and slowly raised his head. "Do…Do they need me?"

"No…And even if they do, they're not going to get to you any more today," Ross declared.

"Caldwell's talking?" Bobby asked. His voice was very weak and raspy.

"Singing like a canary…I always wanted to say that," Ross said.

"They…They need to document everything he says," Bobby said. "Tape everything…And when they check the sites…Lots of photos…" He tried to stand, wavered, and slumped back in the chair.

"Bobby…For God's sake…Take it easy…" Alex gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll get some help to get him out of here," Ross said to Alex.

"Thank you," Alex said, her eyes not leaving Bobby as Ross left.

"You…You didn't come in," Bobby said. "That must have been hard for you…"

"I promised you I wouldn't come in unless you signaled me…But you're right…It was very hard…"

"Please," he said. "I…I…I don't want to back out there…I…I don't know if I can…Please…Not now…"

"Don't worry…I'll take care of you…" Alex said. She touched his cheek, and he leaned into its warmth.

"You know," he said in a voice so low she could scarcely hear him. "It…It's only going to get worse…I…I wouldn't blame you…"

"I know…But we both can get through this…"

END CHAPTER 35


	36. Chapter 36

Some wild speculation regarding Declan Gage and how he came to disgrace.

CHAPTER 36

Alex hoped that Bobby was wrong, that the worst of this case might be over, but she was used to having her hopes dashed, especially with this case. At least Mark Caldwell forgot his request that Bobby lead his interviews. As far as Caldwell was concerned, Bobby was simply another in the long line of cops and agents who hung on his words. He even appeared to forget that Bobby was his victim. Bobby rarely took part in Caldwell's interviews. He'd done his job. He'd gotten Caldwell to betray Linley and reveal what he knew about his mentor's murders. Bobby dealt with most of the processing and tracking of the information Caldwell provided. He used it to trace and find more of Linley's victims and to add to the older man's profile. Within a week after Bobby's encounter with Caldwell, a dozen more victims were found, and articles found near the bodies meant that four of those bodies were quickly identified, and four sets of families and friends knew what had happened to their friends, sisters, daughters, granddaughters, nieces, and, in one case, mother.

In addition to keeping an eye on Bobby—which she regarded as her primary responsibility—Alex helped deal with the requests that flooded what the press came to call "The Sebastian Squad." Some days it seemed that every family of every missing person in the United States called to see if their loved one might be one of Sebastian's victims. There were reporters desperate for information on the case. One connected the Detective Goren on this case with the man who'd apparently gotten Mark Ford Brady to confess and reveal the bodies of many of his victims, and Bobby was the subject of many more requests for interviews. The Brass strongly suggested that Bobby respond to some of these requests, but Ross shielded him as best as he could. Bobby was more than happy to allow everyone else to deal with the press. His lack of ego endeared Bobby to the other investigators, although several clearly regarded him with suspicion because of his association with Declan Gage and the apparent ease with which he got Caldwell to talk.

George Huang became one of the few people Alex and Bobby trusted. Just after Bobby's confrontation with Caldwell, Huang helped Alex get Bobby home. The psychiatrist responded to Bobby's repeated apologies for being so much trouble with a gentle dismissal.

"I'd be more concerned if you didn't have some reaction to all of this," Huang said. "Are you in any pain?"

"I don't need anything," Bobby insisted.

"There are…"

"Please, Doctor…I don't need anything…"

Alex didn't share Bobby's opinion, especially after he spent a sleepless night wandering from one room of his home to another. After a night in which she got little sleep herself, Alex woke to the smell of coffee. She yawned, stretched, rose, and stumbled into the kitchen. Bobby sat at the table holding a large mug and staring at the wall.

"Good morning," Alex said carefully as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Morning," Bobby said softly. He was dressed in a cotton dress shirt with an untied tie around his neck. "I was just thinking that I really hate the color of that wall."

Alex sat across from him. She took a long drink of coffee. "Somehow, I don't think you spent the night worrying about the color of your kitchen."

"I…I'm sorry…I kept you up…"

"I wouldn't have slept well anyway," Alex said. "And I know I got more sleep than you did. You know…Dr. Huang said there are…"

"No," Bobby said sharply. He stood and walked away from her. "Sorry…" He stared into the sink. "I…I can't…I can't take the risk…"

"Bobby…You don't have to suffer…"

He drained the rest of his coffee. Alex saw his back muscles shake.

"I…I'm sorry," he said. "It's …It's hard…It…It's just hard. And it hurts…"

Alex started to stand.

"Do you have some clothes here?" Bobby asked.

"Yes…But…"

"Good…You can get a shower. We can return the car when we get to work…"

Alex stared at his back. "Bobby…You're not going in…"

"It'll be worse if I don't, Eames."

Those words became a manta over the next week. He made a few feeble attempts to get Alex to leave him for a few nights, but eventually simply accepted her presence. Accepting didn't mean that he always acknowledged her. But he acknowledged the existence of little beyond his work. Even at Major Case he rarely spoke beyond a genuine if mumbled "Thank you" to people or "I was just doing my job" in response to any words of praise.

"I don't know how to reach him," Alex said as she met George Huang for coffee in the One PP cafeteria one morning. "I think he wants me around. He doesn't fight me any more. A couple of days ago I got caught in a meeting. He could've left without me, but he waited. But I can't tell if he wants or needs me, or if he's just given up fighting me. Or if I'm just a habit."

"He doesn't say much in our sessions," Huang said. "But that happens. There are hills and valleys and plateaus. At least we don't seem to be in a valley. I can tell you that he values you. Very much."

Alex gnawed her lip. "I…I wish he'd just talk to me. Sometimes I catch him looking at me…Like he wants me to say something…Or he wants to say something to me…But he can't or won't…And it breaks my heart…"

"I know what you mean," Huang said. "He often seems about to say something in our sessions, but then he holds back…But we need to remember that this man had many demons long before this. That's he's at this point shows he's remarkably strong."

"I know," Alex said. She wondered, not for the first time, how much Bobby had told Dr. Huang about his life.

"He hasn't told me everything…I know that," Huang said. "And I'm not pumping you for information. "His mother, his brother, his father…Throw in Declan Gage…" Huang paused.

"It's ok," Alex said. "Mentioning Gage's name won't freak me out. He made me very angry, for what he did to Bobby and to his daughter. Sometimes I think I'm angrier at Gage for what he did to Jo than I am at her for what she did to me. Bobby…Bobby's not doing this to save Gage's reputation, is he?"

"It may be a factor," Huang said. "It's one of the things he's actually been willing to talk about. I don't think it's a huge reason, if it's a reason at all. I think the main reason he feels he has to do everything on this case is because he wants to help the families and…" Huang hesitated.

"What?" Alex leaned forward.

"As…a sort of penance…Retribution," Huang said. "I think Detective Goren feels responsible for Caldwell…Even somehow for Linley…"

Alex sighed. "I don't know how anyone could logically think that…But it doesn't surprise me with Bobby."

"If I could," Huang said. "I'd keep him away from Linley. Caldwell was relatively easy to manipulate. Linley is a very different case. But with Detective Goren's insistence on speaking with him, Linley's refusal to talk with anyone else, and the desire to find as many of Sebastian's victims as possible…"

"I know," Alex said. "You know, there are moments when I'm angrier with the FBI and the Brass than anyone…"

Huang smiled sadly. "There are moments I'm not fond of them either."

Alex sensed a change in the cafeteria's atmosphere. She thought she heard whispers and saw several people look towards the entrance. She turned and saw Bobby standing just inside the door and surveying the room. He looked excited and apprehensive.

"He's got news," Alex told Huang, who'd also seen Bobby. "And he thinks it isn't going to make me happy."

Bobby saw them and started to walk towards them. Alex and Huang saw that half of the people in the cafeteria tried to hide their interest in Bobby, while the other half didn't even make the attempt. Alex fought against the desire to rip out their eyeballs, or at least scream at them to leave Bobby alone. She knew Bobby was aware of their scrutiny; she could see that he was trying to make himself as small as possible and move as quickly as he could. She wished she hadn't selected a table so far away from the entrance.

A movement off to Bobby's right caught Alex's eye. She'd noticed the woman when she entered the cafeteria. Even as preoccupied as she was with Bobby, Alex still possessed the skills of a great detective, and it was instinctive for her to scan every room she entered for potential dangers. This instinct had become sharper since her kidnapping and all that had happened to Bobby. This woman became a blip on Alex's radar because she didn't seem to fit with others in the cafeteria. She was dressed expensively and tastefully, to expensively to be a detective or ADA or public defender, but too tastefully to be a private attorney. She didn't have the authority of a judge or politician. What she looked like, Alex realized as she walked closer to Bobby, was a mother. A grieving mother. Alex jumped from her seat, but the woman had already reached Bobby, who turned to her as his radar picked up her presence.

"Excuse me," Alex heard the woman say. "Are you Detective Goren?"

Alex saw the fear in Bobby's eyes, and knew that he recognized what this woman was.

"Yes, Ma'am. Can I help you?"

"My name is Carol Findlay. My daughter is…Was…Martha Findlay."

The cafeteria was unnaturally quiet. Alex knew that even the most casual followers of the Sebastian case would recognize the name of Martha Findlay. She disappeared on the day she was to graduate with honors from college and hours after Declan Gage told a press conference that he knew who Sebastian was and that the killer would be in custody in a matter of days. Unfortunately, as Bobby later told Alex, Gage was fixated on the wrong man, a brilliant but socially withdrawn and inept young man (Bobby said that it appeared he may have had Asperger's Syndrome). Gage took the young man's lack of responses to questions as proof of his guilt rather than a sign of his condition. The young man's name was released, and the press descended on him and his family like a pack of ravenous hyenas. The day after his mother was sent to a hospital after several neighbors attacked her car, the young man hung himself. The day his body was discovered, the police received photos of Martha Findlay being tortured. Her body hadn't been found until a few weeks ago, when her remains were discovered as a result of Bobby's efforts.

Alex desperately tried to reach Bobby, but obstacles choked the cafeteria floor. She was afraid for Bobby. At the time of her disappearance, the Findlay family was horribly and justly upset with the police and the FBI. Her father told one reporter that he'd kill Declan Gage if he ever met him. There hadn't been a response from the family beyond the claiming of Martha's remain, and Alex could only see very bad things resulting from Carol Findlay's confronting Bobby Goren. She watched in agonizingly slow motion as the older woman approached him. Bobby stood stiffly at attention.

"You're the detective who found my baby," Mrs. Findlay said.

"There…There were a lot of people," Bobby said softly. "They all found her."

"That's not what the press says," Mrs. Findlay replied. "That's not what my contacts…And I have some good ones…Say…"

Bobby shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "There…There are a lot of people involved in this investigation, Ma'am. All of them had a great deal to do with finding your daughter. They're good people and deserve more credit. I…I just happen to be more visible."

"I have trouble believing that," Mrs. Findlay said. "Those…Those things…They had you? They hurt you?"

Bobby nodded slowly.

"You know what Martha suffered…"

"Yes…"

"Please don't," Alex thought. "Please don't make him tell you…"

"Thank you," Mrs. Findlay said. "Thank you for letting us know what happened and bringing her back. Thank you." She trembled, and Bobby gently touched her arm.

"Mrs. Findlay…I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for what happened to Martha. I'm sorry…For all of the mistakes…I'm sorry it took so long for you to find out what happened to her. I…I wish I could've…Could've helped more."

Mrs. Findlay studied him for several moments. "You've done a great deal, Detective," she finally said. "And in five minutes you've shown me more kindness than some people have shown me in five years. Thank you." She turned and walked out of the cafeteria, leaving a stunned audience.

Bobby, clutching his leather binder, stood silently for several seconds. He looked in Alex's direction, and seemed to remember why he'd ventured to the cafeteria in search of her. He walked toward Alex and Huang as the sound of utensils clanging and voices chattering started. Alex knew he only pretended to ignore the stares that followed him.

"I'm going to get some more coffee," Huang said. "Can I get you a cup, Detective?"

"Uh…Yes…Please…Thank you," Bobby said.

"Are you all right?" Huang asked as he stood.

Bobby sighed. "Just another emotional storm. I think I'm getting used to them."

Alex sat across from Bobby as Huang left. "Are you sure you're ok? Do you want to go somewhere more private?"

"I'm fine," Bobby said in resignation. "The news of this is probably all over the building by now."

"How did she get in here?" Alex wondered.

Bobby shrugged. "She had a visitor's badge…The cafeteria isn't restricted…I wonder how long she's been waiting for me to show up…What some of these families go through…They deserve…"

Captain Ross burst through the door. He saw Bobby and Alex and rushed to them.

"See," Bobby said to Alex. "I told you."

"Detective…Are you all right?" Ross asked.

"I think," Bobby mused. "I'm going to start carrying a large sign or wearing a shirt that says how I am. I'm fine, Sir," he said in response to Ross' exasperated look. "She wasn't any danger."

Dr. Huang appeared behind Ross. "She wanted to thank Detective Goren."

Bobby reddened slightly as he took his coffee from Huang.

"Of course," Huang said as he sat down. "Detective Goren told her that a great many other people deserved the credit for finding her daughter's body…"

Ross, considerably relieved, sat. "Of course he did." He looked at Bobby with a combination of frustration and admiration.

"I…I'm sorry," Bobby said. "I…I did what I thought was right…"

"Detective," Ross said patiently. "You did the right thing. We should be protecting you from this sort of thing."

"You shouldn't have to protect me…I should be able to take care of myself," Bobby murmured.

"Bobby…" Alex leaned forward. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You've been through a lot. No one minds helping you. Remember…We get to take care of you…Now…What was it that you were so excited about that you had to come down here to tell us about it?"

"Oh…Right…" Bobby unzipped his binder. "And you're all here…This morning…I realized something about Linley…I should've caught it a long time ago…Surprised no one else caught it…"

"I'm not," Huang said. "You catch most things before anyone else."

Bobby reddened again. "Well…After looking at the transcripts of the interviews with Caldwell…And…And I remembered when they had me…"

No one could look Bobby in the eyes.

"Linley…According to Caldwell, he told Caldwell what to do with Marian Brewster. Linley never touched her…And the only DNA we found on her body was Caldwell's. And…And…" Bobby took a deep breath. "What I remember…Linley didn't…He told Caldwell what to do…How to…To torture me…But he didn't actively participate much…And…And I think we…I…can use it against him."

Alex bit her tongue, but Huang spoke.

"Detective…Are you sure you're ready to deal with Linley?"

"Look," Bobby said calmly and sensibly. "I seem to be the only person he'll talk to. And there are a lot of families out there like the Findlays. They deserve to know what happened. There may be innocent men in jail for some of Linley's victims. I have to do this."

"All right," Ross said. "Tell us about how we can get Linley…"

END CHAPTER 36


	37. Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

As much as she hated Mark Caldwell and Declan Gage, Alex hated Thomas Linley more. Caldwell was, after all, largely Linley's creation, and Declan Gage, for all of his many sins, was set on the road to disaster by Linley's actions. As the case continued, neither Alex or Bobby had direct contact with Linley, but they heard about his arrogance. He traded promises of information about his victims for special treatment, but his two chief demands—that he be allowed to speak with Mark Caldwell and Robert Goren—were consistently refused. Alex and Bobby watched a few of the interrogations of Caldwell. The man's smugness infuriated Alex, but Bobby viewed the proceedings with an eerie detachment.

It became clear that, in spite of Captain Ross' reluctance, Dr. Huang's reservations, and Alex Eames' objections, Bobby Goren was going to speak with Thomas Linley. The stated reason was that everyone involved with the investigation wanted to find as many of Sebastian's victims as possible, but Huang and Alex were worried that Bobby had his own agenda in confronting Linley.

"He wants to prove to everyone—including himself—that he can do this," Alex said to Huang over one of the many cups of coffee they shared.

"True," Huang agreed. "But there's something else. It's as if he feels he has to something to make up for something he's done or hasn't done. As if he feels he needs to do penance for something. If Linley picks up on that—and he's more than capable of doing that—and turns it against Detective Goren…"

"Bobby has overdeveloped senses of guilt and responsibility," Alex said. "It's not hard to find and exploit them."

Alex and Huang's concern were lost in the face of Bobby's assurances that he was all right. He was more than willing to confront Linley, and those in charge were more than willing to use him. A time and date were finally set. Linley's lawyers weren't keen on their client facing Bobby, especially after the results of his interview with Mark Caldwell, but Linley eagerly accepted the offer, and insisted that he face Bobby alone.

The night before Bobby's encounter with Linley, Alex accompanied Bobby home. As he had since the interview with Caldwell, Bobby quietly accepted her presence. There was greater tension than usual, and neither said much as Alex drove to Bobby's home. When they entered his house, she checked his kitchen. Alex wasn't particularly hungry, but she was determined to get something inside Bobby. For his part, Bobby was remarkably passive. He really didn't seem to care what happened to him. He sat silently and listlessly on his couch as Alex rummaged in his kitchen.

"Well…I couldn't find anything in there," Alex said as she walked into the living room. "You want to go out? Order something?"

"Whatever you want…"

"Bobby…" Alex sat next to him on the couch. "You need to eat something. I know you haven't had much today…"

"Really…I'm not hungry…I…I don't think I can eat anything…"

"Bobby." She moved and knelt in front of him. "You don't have to do this."

He raised his head, and she could barely meet his eyes. "You know that I have to…I…I owe the families…"

"I don't understand," Alex said. "Why do you think you owe them? Whatever you think, Bobby…Surely what you suffered…That must count for something?"

Bobby leaned his head against the back of his couch. "I…I may be the only one who can do this…The friends and families…Deserve to know what happened…If you were me, you'd do this…Any good cop would do this…"

Alex shook her head. "I don't know about that, Bobby. This seems above and beyond even the best cops I've seen. You…You're not doing this because…Because you think you deserve to suffer…"

It was several moments before he responded. "You and Huang been talking?"

"Yes." Alex knew Bobby could tell if she lied. "Bobby…You're a good man…You're not responsible for what happened to anyone."

"I…Look," he said wearily. "I…Are you ok? Are there sheets and pillows on the bed in the extra room? I'm really…I'm going to try to get some sleep."

He stood, and it was as if he'd slammed a door in her face. Alex had no idea how to get him to open it again.

"I'm not hungry," Bobby continued. "You're welcome to anything…I…I'll get breakfast tomorrow, if you want." He walked away, and Alex felt helpless.

"Eames…Alex…" He stood in the middle of the room, his back to her. "I…I'm sorry…I can't…Not right now…I can't…I'm sorry…"

She watched him walk away. Numbly, she stumbled back to the kitchen. She found some cereal and milk and ate a little. When she finished it, she walked by Bobby's bedroom door and hesitated. She desperately wanted to open the door and check on him, but her respect for his privacy held her hand. She took a deep breath, and went to the extra bedroom to try to sleep. She slept little and badly, waking up to all sorts of terrors. In what seemed to be the middle of the night, she heard the click of the door being opened. She was instantly awake, with her right hand reaching for gun. Even as she reached under the bed, Alex knew that Bobby was the source of the sound. "Light," she said softly, and switched on the lamp on the table by the bed. A pale Bobby stood blinking in the doorway.

"Are…What is it?" Alex asked gently.

"I…I'm sorry to wake you up…I…I was checking on you…To see if you were all right…I…I'm sorry…I did the very thing I didn't want to do…"

"It's ok," Alex said. She slipped from under the sheets and blankets and walked toward Bobby. She wore her pajama pants and T-shirt, and she felt safer than she did in her own home. She stopped a step away from him. He radiated fear and confusion. She did not want him facing Linley in this state.

"Bobby," she said, and reached out to touch his arm. "You've got to get some rest…"

He shivered when she touched him. "I know," he said wearily. "I think I fell asleep…But…I had this dream…Or dreams…And you…You were being hurt…All…All of the bad people in my life…You know…All of them…I woke up…And I had to know if you were ok…I…I'm sorry…I shouldn't have invaded…But I had to see that you were all right…"

Alex stepped closer to him. "You can see and hear and feel that I'm all right."

"And…And smell…You always smell so good…" Bobby murmured.

Alex felt his warm breath on her hair. She looked up at him, stood on her toes, and gently pulled his head down to her. Their lips brushed, and Bobby closed his eyes and shuddered.

"Alex…Don't do this…" She wasn't sure if she heard or felt the words. "Not unless you want this…Because if we start…I don't think I could stop…"

"Who," Alex thought as they kissed. "Would want this to stop?"

The kiss grew deeper, and Alex was dimly aware of being propelled back to the bed and of Bobby's large, graceful hands reaching beneath her shirt to create tiny flames of pleasure on her skin. He didn't hurt or force here. He was gentle and tender, but there was desperation in his touches and kisses. Alex didn't fight him. She didn't want to. She wanted him—she had wanted him for a long time. She needed him, maybe not as desperately as he needed her, but she needed him. She thought that making love might free and strengthen him. She loved him. She knew that he loved her. She would give him what she could. She would give herself to him.

He gently pushed her on the bed. He reached for the bottom of her shirt, but Alex quickly pulled it over her head and dropped it on the floor.

"Oh, God," he prayed. "Alex…You're so beautiful…" He dropped to his knees before her; his hands hovered over her. She caught his hands and pulled them to her breasts. It was the last thing she clearly remembered for several moments. Bobby's hands and mouth were everywhere on her body, creating wonderful things. She didn't know how she lost the rest of her clothing; she didn't know how Bobby lost his. He moved inside her before she was completely ready for him, and she cried out at the pleasure and pain. She thought he hesitated, and she wrapped her arms as far as they would go around him and pulled him to her. He thrust inside her, and great waves of joy flooded her. She was lost to everything but him.

She slowly returned to reality. Bobby sprawled across her body. She tenderly ran her hands through his damp curls. He shivered, and she reached for the covers to pull over them. His shivering turned to shaking. As he started to sob, Alex wrapped her arms around him.

"It's all right," she whispered. "You didn't hurt me…It was wonderful…You were wonderful…" She rubbed circles on back. His sobs eased and ceased, and he fell into a deep sleep. She soon followed him.

END CHAPTER 37


	38. Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

An annoying buzzing woke Alex, and it took her several moments to realize that it was her alarm clock. It had been several months since the alarm had to wake her. She fumbled for the clock and managed to shut it off. As she reached for it, cold air hit her body, and she realized she was naked, and that something large and warm cuddled next to her. She saw Bobby and studied him. He was curled up next to her, his left arm thrown protectively over her tummy. The alarm hadn't bothered him. He was deeply asleep, which warmed Alex's heart. She couldn't remember ever seeing Bobby so completely at rest.

"Was it," she thought. "Because we made love last night? Or was I just there? It shouldn't matter to me…It should be about Bobby…But it does." She tenderly touched his head; his curls were surprisingly soft. She glanced at the clock and sighed. They both needed to get up soon if they hoped to reach One PP well before the scheduled interview with Linley. Alex hesitated. If she got up, Bobby could get a few more precious moments of sleep while she showered and dressed. She might even be able to fix them coffee and some breakfast. But that would risk letting Bobby wake up alone, and Alex didn't want that to happen. She sensed that it was important that Bobby know that last night was wonderful for her; that her giving of herself hadn't been an act of charity but of love.

Bobby interrupted her internal debate by moving closer to her. His grip on her tightened slightly, and Alex's heart filled.

"Oh, God," she thought. "I don't know if I can do this. He may need me too much. I may not be able to love him enough."

Bobby stirred again. He blinked, yawned, and looked up at Alex. She'd never seen him look so open, so innocent, so joyous.

"Are…Are you real?" His voice was husky with sleep.

"Yes," Alex said after a moment to find her voice.

He slowly and carefully untangled his body from her and looked down at her. "Did…Did we really make love last night?"

Her heart soared when he said "make love". "Yes," she said. "And it was wonderful."

He lay on his side, and she turned so that she faced him. His left hand hovered inches from her face.

"I…I didn't hurt you? I…I remember you crying out…"

"If I did, it was out of pleasure," Alex said. She touched his cheek.

His long, elegant fingers splayed across her cheek. "You…You're so beautiful. Are…Are you sure you're real?"

"Yea…I'm so real I have to go to the bathroom." Alex smiled at him and slipped from the bed. She considered putting on Bobby's T-shirt, but decided she could deal with the cold and that Bobby might enjoy the view. "I'll be back soon…"

She returned from the bathroom to find Bobby lying on his back with his arm across his eyes. She pulled the covers back, and he shivered and lowered his arm.

"You're very beautiful," he murmured as he gently pulled her to rest on him. He pulled the sheets and blankets over them.

"Next time," Alex said. "We get in that giant bed of yours."

"There…There'll be a next time?"

"If I have anything to do with it," Alex declared.

"You have everything to do with it," Bobby said. He looked at the clock, and Alex felt his body fill with tension.

"Don't…Don't think about it for a while," she said.

"I…I'd rather think of you," Bobby said. He buried his face in Alex's hair. "I wish I could stay here with you forever."

"We could…We could stay here and make love…"

"Alex…Don't tempt me…Please…I…I have to…"

"I know." She smiled sadly. "But it's a nice dream. You…You promise…After…We can…"

"Yes…Oh, yes…" His hands moved through her hair. "You…You want me?"

She kissed his chest. "Of course I do."

"I…I wanted…For our first time…I wanted it to be special…"

"It was special," Alex insisted. "If it'd been any more special, I don't think I would've survived."

He brushed his lips across her forehead. "I love you so much…"

They held each other for several moments.

"I won't do it, if you don't want me to," Bobby said.

Alex raised her body and looked at him. "What? Interview Linley…"

"I won't talk to him if you don't want me to."

"You…You'd give me that much power…"

"You already have that much power," Bobby said softly.

"No." Alex shook her head. "The work…Your caring about people…It makes you you. I love you. I won't keep you from being you….Even if I don't like what it makes you do."

He hugged her tightly. "Thank you…Thank you…You're a remarkable person, Alex Eames." He stared at the clock. "We…We really need to get going."

"Ok." Alex reluctantly slipped away from him. "You get a shower and I'll get the coffee started." She picked up his shirt and slipped it over her head.

"Alex."

She turned to him.

"Today…I'm…I don't know how things are going to go…"I…I may not be able to give you the attention…"

"Don't worry about me." She touched his cheek. "Just remember that I'm there. You're not alone.'

Bobby was very quiet for the rest of the morning. He gratefully accepted coffee and even tried to swallow a few bits of a bagel. He sat silently studying his notes as Alex drove to One PP. She glanced at him to make sure he was still alive. As he had for his interview with Mark Caldwell, Bobby had dressed in his best suit, and he looked very impressive.

"You look great," Alex said as she pulled into the garage.

"Thank you," Bobby said. "I hope Linley is equally impressed."

Before Alex left the car, she touched Bobby's sleeve. "I want you to know…I'm glad about what happened last…I'm…Happy doesn't begin to describe about how I feel about what happened. I love you. I understand why you have to do this. I believe that you can do this. I…I gave myself to you last night because I love. Not because of pity or charity, but because I love you. Know that. Believe that."

Bobby swallowed. "I know…I believe…"

The scene and atmosphere were eerily similar to those surrounding the Caldwell interview. It seemed to Alex that there more FBI agents, psychiatrists and psychologists wandering around Major Case. There were even more members of the Brass lurking. Alex guided Bobby to the same interview room where they'd hidden before, and she again took up guard duty at its entrance. Fewer people attempted to breach the security around Bobby, and Alex wondered if she should thank Ross for the two burly uniforms standing near the room.

Ross knocked at the door. "Linley's here," he said as he entered. "He's surrounded by his attorneys…Although he still insists he wants to speak to you alone."

"Arrogant bastard," Alex muttered.

"And that's a point on our side," Bobby said. "But he knows we want something from him and probably knows what it is."

"You're sure you don't want me…Or someone…In there with you?" Alex asked.

"No," Bobby said as he stood and picked up his binder. "You'd be a weapon for him. And you're the only other person I'd want in that room."

Alex and Ross again led Bobby through the squad room. Bobby again felt the stares bore into his back.

"Detective," Ross said when they stood outside the interrogation room. "Be careful in there. Don't sacrifice yourself."

Bobby looked at the captain with confusion. "Sir…The families…"

"Detective Goren…We all want the best we can get for the victims and their families. I know you will do your best. But you matter as well. What you've done on this case is above and beyond what anyone could expect…What anyone else could do. If it gets bad in there, I'm pulling you out."

"But, sir…The Brass and the FBI…"

"This is my squad," Ross said. "I'm in charge. You're a member of that squad. A highly valued member."

"Thank you, sir," Bobby said after a moment. He took a deep breath, straightened his back, and walked into the interrogation room.

END CHAPTER 38


	39. Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

"I'm getting tired of this," Alex muttered as she watched Bobby sit at the table in the interrogation room.

"I'm not fond of it," Ross said.

"Thank you, Sir," Alex said. "What you said…Bobby needed to hear something like that…"

"I meant all of it," Ross said. His eyes focused on Bobby. "I still don't understand him…But I know a good detective when I see one."

The interrogation room's door opened, and Thomas Linley, accompanied by two uniforms, entered.

"Detective Goren," Linley said genially. "How good to see you again."

Bobby didn't look up. "I understand that you don't wish to have your attorneys present during this interview. You understand your rights?"

Linley smiled as the uniforms checked his restraints. "Is all of this really necessary, Detective Goren? We know each other so well. I know my rights. And these restraints…Are they really necessary? We both know that I'm not going to try anything here."

Bobby nodded to the uniforms, and the two men left the room.

"That's true," Bobby said without looking up at Linley. "You don't attack unless your victim is helpless."

Linley frowned slightly and leaned back in his chair. Alex saw where Mark Caldwell copied some of his attitude, but Linley was far more arrogant and assured than his protégé.

"Detective…I'm disappointed," Linley said. "That doesn't sound like someone who wants something from me. And should I keep calling you Detective? As I recall, we were on a more informal basis when we last met."

"We were never on any kind of basis," Bobby replied flatly. "Detective is fine."

"Very well…" Linley said. "I'd hoped we might be on a friendlier level. That perhaps I could speak to you like your late mentor. I was sorry to learn of Declan Gage's death. I had hopes we might meet again. Perhaps discuss our protégés. I confess Dr. Gage appears to have the better of the two."

"Probably because I got away from him," Bobby said calmly. "Mark was always under your influence. Which is why you both got caught."

"Really, Detective." Linley had an unpleasant smile on his face. "I've heard how Mark betrayed me under your influence. His character is a little weak."

"Of course it is," Bobby said. "You couldn't have turned him into a murderer unless it was."

Linley's smile faded. "What are you suggesting?"

Bobby looked up at Linley for the first time since the killer had entered the room. "Well…Mark doesn't have a strong personality of his own."

"He wasn't allowed to reach his full potential," Linley said.

"I wonder what that would've been. Without you, I don't think he would've become a killer. Certainly not a torture killer. It's funny…" Bobby tilted his head. "Mark Caldwell probably would've been a nobody. Probably in and out of prisons until he got killed. But now…He's killed only one person…And that one under your instruction…And he's as famous as you are."

"Only because of his association with me…"

Bobby shrugged. "It doesn't seem fair. You have all of these victims…You taught Mark…And now he's eclipsing you…"

"You're trying to get me angry, Detective," Linley said amiably. "So I'll tell you where all my bodies are buried…"

"Well…We haven't needed you for that," Bobby said with equal amiability. "You seem to know a lot about what Mark's done. You've probably heard that he told us about where some of those bodies are."

Linley smirked. "But you don't know how many there are…Where they are…"

Bobby ignored this statement. "But, you know, we didn't really need Mark. We found a lot of the bodies before what he told us."

Linley leaned forward. "How many? And how do you know who they are?"

Bobby laughed and dropped his pen. "Oh, where have you been in the last years? We have DNA now…Oh, that's right…You were in prison…Surely you've heard about these things…We don't need you to identify the victims. Even if you could…"

"What do you mean…If I could?"

"Well…You're old…Almost as old as Gage…And his mind was mush before he died," Bobby said. "So, how much can you remember?"

"My memory is just fine…"

"So, you remember Martha Findlay?"

"Of course," Linley said. "Gage's great mistake…"

"We found her," Bobby said. "Found her and several other bodies. You're not very original. Your patterns…Once we find one body, it's easy to find others."

It was obvious this was not the way Linley expected the interview to go.

"If you know so much," Linley said. "Why are you talking to me? If you can find my projects, why bother with me?"

Bobby shrugged. "Well, it would save us time and money if you told us. Might get you better treatment."

"Us? I only see you in this room, Detective."

"That was your request…Or did you forget that already? I wasn't particularly interested in renewing our association."

"This "us"…There is no "us"…You're the one who figured it out," Linley insisted.

"I'm part of a team," Bobby said. "A great many people contributed."

"But you're the one," Linley said. "But you…You care…" He spoke disdainfully. "It's a weakness Gage didn't have. You care. That's why you're here. To help the families." Linley laughed. "If the families cared about the things, they would've protected them."

"I don't see caring about others as a weakness," Bobby said.

"It's how I got you," Linley said. "I knew you'd have to save that thing. I knew because of what Declan Gage said about you."

"I'm not sure why you…and Gage…were so obsessed with me." Bobby hid his hurt well. "I was certainly your great mistake. By taking me, you got the police right after you…"

"Did I?" Linley smiled his unpleasant smile. "I've heard…I know there are a lot of cops who wouldn't lift a finger to help you."

Alex didn't dare look back at the Brass behind her. From the corner of her eye, she saw that Ross was at least honest enough to look ashamed.

"Some, perhaps," Bobby said in the remarkably calm voice he'd used throughout the interview. "But there are some cops who do like me…Or at least owe me…And then there's the ones who are just good cops…"

"You tell yourself that, Detective. But they looked for you only because they wanted me," Linley sneered.

"Well…They found you, didn't they?"

Bobby unzipped his leather binder. "We…All of us on the task force…We're starting to think you're not what you say you are…At the very least, you're not what you used to be."

"What? What do you mean?" It was obvious that Bobby's calm demeanor increasingly infuriated Linley.

"Well…Mark told us you didn't touch Marion Brewster. You just watched."

"I told him…"

"You know what I think?" Bobby leaned forward. "I think you're like Declan Gage…I think you're old and your skills are deteriorating. If they were that good to start with…"

Linley jerked against his restraints. "I've left dead women all over the East Coast…I got you…A NYPD Major Case detective…Because of what Gage told me about you…That big heart of yours…He said it would always be your weakness…That you care for people…People who aren't worth half of you…"

"I've never bothered with that distinction," Bobby said. "Much easier to assume I'm not as important as anyone else…And…You know…It's a good bet…I don't really have anyone…"

"I have a legacy…More than you have," Linley said.

"Mark?" A smile played on the corners of Bobby's mouth. "Mark's not much of a legacy."

"My victims…All of them…"

"Oh…Those…" Bobby pushed his chair back, stood, and began striding around the room. "You know we've already found some of the bodies. We've figured out your patterns…"

"You," Alex thought. "You figured it out, Bobby. You did it."

"There's nothing especially interesting about your crimes. At least from what we know about you and your victims. You're not especially creative or prolific."

"I caught you!" Linley shouted.

"No…" Bobby waved his index finger back and forth. "Mark caught me…Mark tortured me…If Mark had had his way, I'd be dead. You messed it up."

"No…I planned it. I was the master."

"Master?" Bobby laughed the hollow laugh Alex hated when he used it against Caldwell. "You didn't even get rid of my cell phone. And you didn't get me to break…"

"Yes…Yes I did," Linley insisted. "Right before they came. You broke."

Bobby sat and cocked his head. "I knew help was coming. I knew it was a matter of minutes. I didn't break. I was…resigned."

"You…I know you." Linley shook with rage."Gage…Gage said you were fascinating…You could've become something like me…"

Alex held her breath. She felt Ross's tension grow.

"But I didn't," Bobby said calmly. "I made a choice. I'm not sure how or why it happened…But I made a choice…The right one…"

"Gage said that you felt guilty because you left your mother…Your brother…" Linley's eyes gleamed. "And…And you didn't pay attention to Mark and me…You were responsible for that thing's death…And Detective Eames…You were responsible for what happened to her."

The words struck Bobby silent.

"I know why you stayed quiet while we tortured you…Why you stayed silent…You wanted it…You needed it…It was your penance. We did you a favor!"

Before Ross could charge into the room, Bobby responded.

"We? I don't recall you doing anything. You told Mark what to do, but you never did anything that I can remember. I don't think you could or can. You're an impotent, weak old man. Not a master…Not a great serial killer…Just a weak old man…"

Linley seethed.

"I bet you didn't kill a quarter of the people you claim," Bobby continued.

"I did!" Linley shouted.

"Prove it," Bobby said. "We need more than the words of a weak, forgetful old man."

"The place where I lived before that bitch sent me to prison. In the attic. In the eastern corner. There's a place between the roof and the beams. My records are there. They'll prove what I'm saying. You'll see…"

There was a great buzz and rush behind Alex and Ross.

"Great," Ross muttered. "Didn't anyone check on this?"

Alex's attention focused on Bobby, whose shoulders slumped slightly.

Linley realized what he'd just revealed. "You…You bastard…You son of a bitch…"

Bobby slowly raised his head, and a bitter smile crossed his face. "You may be closer than you know," he said softly. He stood, picked up his binder, and started to leave.

"No! No!" Linley shouted. "This can't be! You…This isn't over…Our battle…"

The two uniforms rushed in the room and started to try to get Linley out of the room.

"The only battle was on your side," Bobby said wearily. "I'm not here because of some personal vendetta. I'm not here to save Declan Gage's reputation. I'm here to help the families of the victims and because it's what I do."

"We should've grabbed that bitch you have as a partner!" Linley shouted as the cops struggled with him. "You should thank me! I gave you what you wanted!" His voice faded as he was dragged away from the room.

END CHAPTER 39


	40. Chapter 40

CHAPTER 40

"Let's get him out of there," Ross said.

Alex was already at the door. "Bobby," she said as she entered the room.

He didn't move.

"A great job, Detective," Ross said as he followed Alex.

Bobby didn't respond. Alex stepped closer to him. Her hand hovered over his shoulder.

"Bobby…Are you…What can we do…"

"Alex," Ross said. "Get him out of here…"

"C'mon, Bobby," Alex said with a confidence she didn't feel. Her hand rested on Bobby's shoulder. His body vibrated with tension.

Bobby shakily pushed away from the table and stood. He stumbled slightly as he walked to the door. Alex picked up his abandoned leather binder. He stopped in front of the door.

"They're…They're all out there…" he whispered. "I can't…Please…I can't…"

"You don't have to," Ross said. "I'll run interference. Alex…Take the back elevators. Both of you get out of here…I don't care where you go, but get out of here."

Alex nodded. She gripped Bobby's right arm, and guided her partner through the door. Ross turned right to face the swarm of FBI agents, detectives, psychologists, and psychiatrists, while Alex turned Bobby to the left. She looked down the hall, and saw only one edgy uniform standing before the elevators used for moving prisoners and supplies up and down the building.

"Clear?" she asked the uniform. She recognized him as a Major Case veteran.

He nodded. "Linley's back down in the holding area. He may even be out of the building by now…"

"C'mon, partner," Alex said. "Let's get you out of here."

She guided him to the elevator, but took it only to the second floor. "You don't mind going down just a couple of flights?" she asked Bobby.

He shook his head no, and followed her down the stairs to the parking garage. Alex opened the door to grey, concrete bunker. Bobby followed her, but suddenly stopped and started breathing rapidly.

"Hey," Alex said softly. "It's ok…I'm right here…I'm safe, and you're safe. We just need to get in my car, and then we can get out of here."

Bobby closed his eyes as she spoke and took several deep breaths. Alex tentatively and gently laid a hand on his chest. He trembled and opened his eyes.

"Sorry," he said in a strained voice. "It's…It's…"

"It's ok," Alex said. "This isn't one of my favorite places, either."

She guided him to her car. He managed to get his seatbelt on, and seemed calmer.

"It's ok," she said. "Don't worry. I want to help you."

He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.

"What do you want?" Alex asked.

"I…I don't know…I…Please…Alex…I don't want to think…I…I don't want to have to decide…Please…"

Her hand again touched his chest. "You…You trust me," she said.

"Oh…Yes…Yes…" His eyes opened and looked at her with so much love and trust that Alex could scarcely hold his gaze. "It's the only thing I'm really sure of."

Alex swallowed. "All right…I'll take care of you. Don't worry. I want to do this. I'm going to take you home. I'm going to get some food inside you and make sure you get some rest."

Bobby's nod of agreement was a formality. Alex had already started her car. She vaguely hoped he might fall asleep on the trip to his house, but he stayed awake as she drove.

"My…My binder," he said. "Did I…"

"It's in the back seat," Alex said. "I picked it up."

"Thank you," he said with relief. "You've probably noticed I don't function well without it."

"You left it on your desk," Alex explained. "That's when I knew you…You were preoccupied."

"Thank you for taking care of it."

They arrived at his house. Bobby lurched to the front door and struggled with his keys.

"Here," Alex said gently. She took the keys and unlocked the front door. She shut the door, making sure the lock caught. Bobby struggled out of his coat and hung it on the coat rack. Alex hung her coat next to his. She felt the exhaustion and despair rising from him.

"Bobby…"

He spun to face her and wrapped his arms around her. She nearly collapsed as he leaned heavily on her.

"Please," he whispered. "Please…Alex…Please…Let me know I'm human…Let me know that I'm alive…"

She tenderly lowered his face to her own. "Of course you're alive…Of course you're human…You're a good man." Her lips brushed his.

"Alex…Alex…I don't know…I don't know if I can do this…It…It's so hard…"

"What? What can't you do?"

"The job…You…Everything…It's all so much…Oh, God…I…"

"Look," Alex said as calmly as she could. "Today was about as bad as it could be, right?"

"No…"

Puzzled and surprised, Alex looked at him.

"And…And it wasn't when they had me…Or when I was going through withdrawal…Or when I was at Tates…It…It was when you were taken…I…I lost my mind, Alex…I did…It wasn't just that you weren't there…The idea that Sebastian had you…What he might be doing to you…And it…It was my fault…Oh…Alex…Alex…Please…Forgive me…Please…" He slid through her arms to fall on his knees.

"Bobby…Bobby…There's nothing to forgive." She wrapped her arms around his head and held him against her body.

"He…He was right." Bobby's voice was muffled against Alex's body.

"Who? About what?"

"Linley…"

"Bobby! He knows nothing about you…"

"He knows what Gage told him." Bobby's voice dripped with the pain of the betrayal by his mentor. "Alex…Gage told him…When he wasn't sick…Gage told a hanger-on about me. Gage knew how private I was…Am…He knew how much I tried to keep my private life away from my work…And…And he told people…People he barely knew…That I didn't know…He wasn't sick…Why would he do that to me? How could he…" Bobby blinked, and Alex saw the tears run down his cheeks. "He…He told me…I was his best student…That…That I was his legacy…The son he never had…How could he?"

He shook, and Alex tried to soothe him.

"I don't know, Bobby…I don't understand…All I know is that you're a good man…You're nothing like Declan Gage…You care about other people…You care so much…"

"I…I've always tried to do the right thing…To help people…My family…My Mom…My brother…The man I thought was my father…I tried to make them proud of me…I tried so hard…I just want…To be loved…And…And they just…Betrayed me…"

"Oh, Bobby…Listen to me…Please…"

"I…I can't do it any more…I can't…"

"Bobby…Bobby…Please…I'm here…"

"All I do…At work…I love the work…I want to help people…But they whisper behind my back and stare at me and put rats in my desk…"

Alex winced. "Bobby…Many people…Cops…They care about you…They helped find you…"

"There must be…There is…So much wrong with me…I abandoned my family…I hurt you…"

"Bobby…No…No…"

"And even you…"

Alex couldn't breath.

"I'm sorry," Bobby said. Tears streamed down his face. "That…That wasn't fair…I'm…Oh, God…Alex…" He tried to pull away from her, but she was strong, and he was weak. He began to sob, and she held him. "Alex…I'm sorry…So sorry…"

She slid to the floor until she sat with her back against the wall. She still held him, and she said soft, comforting words that he didn't hear. They were lost in his sobs and cries.

He didn't wake up as much as he slowly drifted from a fog. He tried to move, and pain and stiffness rewarded his efforts. He realized he lay on the floor with his upper body and head pillowed by Alex's arms and lap.

"Hey," she said gently. "Are you ok?" She shook her head. "God…That's a stupid question."

He tried to move and speak, but neither his body or mouth obeyed him.

"Take it easy," she said.

Bobby closed his eyes and rested in her warmth. "She's sitting on the floor," he thought. "I must be crushing her."

He blinked. "I…I think…" he said. "I…I can get up…"

"Ok…But let me help you…"

He didn't argue with her. He needed her help to stagger to his feet and stumble to the couch. Alex slipped pillows behind him and draped the throw over him.

"How's that?" she asked.

"Good…Much better…"

She touched his forehead, and the warmth flowed through him. "You don't feel warm…I think what you really need is some food. I'm going to fix some chicken noodle soup. That should help."

"Uh…Yea…That sounds good." His voice had returned to him.

She smiled. "I'll make some tea. Put lots of honey in it."

"That sounds good too."

She touched his cheek. "I can't tell you," she said. "How happy I'm you're talking to me."

He watched her walk to the kitchen and tried to understand why anyone like her was with him. His head hurt, and he closed his eyes. Pains from all over his body joined the pounding in his head. It was as if the battle he'd just fought in his head had moved to his body. A low moan escaped him.

"Hey." He felt Alex's gentle touch and smelled a wonderful mix of tea and honey. He opened his eyes.

"It…It's my body," he admitted. "My head…They hurt a lot."

Alex placed the cup on the table by the couch. "Look," she said patiently. "You've got painkillers. Dr. Huang and the other doctors said that if you take them as they're prescribed, there's no danger of you getting addicted."

Bobby tried not to show any sign of the growing pain.

"It's not a sign of weakness, you know," Alex said.

"Ok…Ok…" He finally surrendered. "But…But as little as possible…"

"It's probably a good idea if you don't take it on an empty stomach. You think you can eat a little soup?"

"Yea…"

He managed nearly a bowl of soup before he took the pill.

"You want some more soup?" Alex asked.

"No…I'm fine…But…I…I'm so tired…It…It's like my body and my head…They know they can shut down now for a while…"

"I'd listen to what they want." Alex kissed his forehead. "C'mon…"

She helped him to his bedroom.

"Already," he said. "It doesn't hurt as much…"

"Do you need help with your clothes?"

"No…I'm fine…" He perched carefully on the edge of his bed.

"Ok…I'll just deal with the dishes…"

"Alex…You…You'll come back?"

She touched his cheek. "Of course."

Bobby slipped out of his clothes and into a T-shirt and pajama pants. A few minutes later, Alex knocked on the door and entered the room. Bobby's grateful look broke her heart. She pulled the blanket and sheet back so that Bobby could slip his legs under tham.

"So," she asked gently. "Could I keep you company?"

"Yea…I'd like that…I'd like that very much…"

Alex slipped into the bed next to him. Bobby curled up close to her."

"Thank you," he whispered. "I…I don't know what I would've done…"

"You're welcome," she said. "Like I keep telling you…I'm glad I get to do this…"

He touched her cheek, his gentle, long, elegant fingers splaying over it. "I love you so much…"

"I love you too…Now…Try to go to sleep, ok?

"Ok."

END CHAPTER 40


	41. Chapter 41

CHAPTER 41

Alex woke to the sound of water running and the smell of coffee. She turned in the bed and found an empty spot instead of Bobby.

"He's up," she thought. "He's got the coffee going. He's taking a shower. All of this is very good." She stretched and slipped out from beneath the covers. She walked to the half bathroom, and then into the kitchen. The water stopped as she poured a cup of coffee. She was seated at the kitchen table savoring the coffee—Bobby always had some of the best—when she heard his cry.

"Alex! Alex! Where are you?"

She jumped from her chair and ran into the bedroom. She almost collided with Bobby as he rushed from the room. He wore a clean T-shirt and boxers, and his wet hair spiked on his head. He seized Alex by her arms, and she winced in pain. He released her.

"I…I'm sorry…" He looked at the floor. "I…I got back…And you weren't there…" He looked and sounded like a lost, little boy, which, Alex though, he was in many ways.

"I just got a cup of coffee," she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

Bobby leaned against the wall. "Of course you did. You woke up…I probably woke you up…And you smelled the coffee and you went to get a cup…which is exactly what I wanted you to do." He shook his head. "It's just…Sometimes I'm not sure what was…Is…Real…And when I went in the bedroom and you weren't there…I freaked…"

"You don't plan to go in, do you?" Alex touched his newly shaved cheek.

"I…Yes…I promised…If I get tired or anything…I'll go home…I promise…"

"It's important to you?"

"Yes."

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Uh..Yea…And for me…A lot and well…The pill…It helped. And I didn't feel groggy this morning."

Alex smiled.

"I know…I know…Both you and Huang told me. I'll consider the pills more often."

"Ok." Alex felt a small sense of victory. "I'm going to get a shower. If you want to go into work, we'll go into work. If not…" She looked out a window. "It's a nice day…We can hang out in the park…"

She had some hopes that Bobby might opt for the day off, but she wasn't surprised when she emerged from the bathroom to find him dressed in a suit and tie. He had his own cup of coffee and stood looking out the kitchen window. He was quiet as Alex drove her car into Manhattan.

"I…I have to admit," he said at one point. "This has its advantages."

"You don't get to study as many people as you do in the subway," Alex said.

"I get to study the one person I really want to study," Bobby said softly.

Alex's heart leaped. "That's one of the best lines I've ever heard."

"Maybe because I mean it," he said.

Alex concentrated on the road for several minutes. "What do you think we're going to find at the office?"

"I…I don't know…I have a terrible feeling that the Brass may want to show off their victory…"

"At least they like you," Alex said.

"For now…"

Alex thought they were early, but the Major Case Squad was buzzing when they stepped off the elevator. Curious eyes followed her and Bobby as they walked through the bullpen. Ross met them before they reached their desks. "Please," he said. "My office…"

Alex frowned. "This is bad news, isn't it?" she asked as Ross shut his door.

Bobby flopped down in a chair.

"The Brass and FBI honchos want to have press conference on the Sebastian case this morning," Ross said.

Alex couldn't suppress a "What!" Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. Ross looked miserable.

"And," Bobby said. "They want me there…"

"Yes," Ross admitted.

"What are they thinking?" Alex asked, her astonishment briefly greater than her anger. "It was just yesterday…And…And now they want to put Bobby on display?"

"Will…Will I have to answer questions?" Bobby asked.

"I hope not," Ross said. "I'm afraid you're right, Alex. They want him there for the PR."

Alex stood quietly seething for several seconds. "Bobby," she said suddenly. "How's your throat feel?"

Puzzled, Bobby looked up at her. "My…My throat?"

Alex saw a gleam in Ross' eyes. "Is Detective Goren not feeling well?" he asked.

"I think he said something about a sore throat as we came in today," Alex said. She walked over to Bobby and placed the back of her hand on his forehead. "He feels warm…Very warm…"

"I…I feel warm?" Bobby blinked.

Ross looked out at the squad room. "Just a moment…"

"What's going on?" Bobby asked as the Captain left his office.

"I think you might have the start of that flu that's going around," Alex said.

"What? I…I don't feel great, but I don't think…"

"Detectives." Ross, followed by George Huang, returned. "We're lucky to have a doctor here."

"I do have my MD," Huang said genially. A smile played on his face. "You don't look well, Detective Goren. How do you feel?"

"Uh…Tired…I mean…" Bobby looked at Ross, then Alex, then Huang. "I…I appreciate what you're trying to do…But…I have to face them sometime…"

"Detective," Huang said patiently. "There's no good reason for you to be at this conference. And I think that given everything…"

"Damn it!" Bobby said sharply. "I…I'm not some fragile…I'm not…" He took a deep breath. "If I'm going to do this job, I can't be babied. I have to face things. If I'm going to do the job." He was lost in thought for a moment. "Except…I'm not going to get to do the job, am I?"

"Bobby," Alex said. "What gives you that idea? You've got your badge and your gun."

Bobby uncoiled from the chair and began to pace. "Yea…But they haven't let me into any situation where I might have to use them."

"Detective," Ross said. "I meant everything that I've said through this case. You're a valuable member of this squad. I have and will fight for you…"

"And I would never have cleared you for duty if I didn't think you were ready," Huang said.

"You're both risking…For me…" Bobby shook his head. "But none of the Brass…"

"I assure you, Goren," Ross said. "Your work on this case…"

"This case…" Bobby repeated. "This case is over, Captain. Where's the next case?"

"Bobby," Alex began.

"Where is it, Eames? Has anyone said anything about our next case?"

"No…But…" Alex turned to Ross.

"Detective…I assure you…Everyone wanted to give you time to recover from this case," Ross explained.

"Detective Goren," Huang said gently. "Think…"

"I am thinking," Bobby said. "You…Not you and Ross…But the Brass…They don't trust me…Other cops don't…The FBI still doesn't…If I don't have the work…" He waved a large paw towards the squad room. "Out there…How many of them trust me…"

Ross stepped closer to Bobby. "I know, Goren…All the members of Major Case were deeply involved in the search and rescue of you…They want you here…"

Bobby leaned against the door. "I…I'm confused…I…"

"I think," Dr. Huang said gently. "Detective Goren has the flu. I think he needs rest for at least…Oh, say, forty-eight hours…"

"Does he need anything else?" Alex asked gently.

"Just what you do for the flu," Huang said. "Rest…Lots of liquids…Watch the fever…Food…That sort of treatment helps a lot of things besides the flu….Detective Goren…"

Bobby raised his head.

"You need some rest," Huang said. "You can do the job…But you don't…You shouldn't…Have to prove that you can do it…"

"Detective Eames," Ross said.

"Yes, Sir?"

"I'm ordering you to escort Detective Goren out of Major Case and back to his home. We can't have him spreading more flu germs throughout the department."

Alex smiled. "Yes, Sir."

Bobby turned to Ross. "But…"

"I'll have a case for you and Detective Eames soon…I'm sure of it," Ross said.

"But…The press conference…The Brass…The FBI…You'll have to deal with them…" Bobby stammered.

Ross smiled. "The Chief of Detectives doesn't have any control over flu bugs."

"You may be enjoying this too much, Captain," Huang said.

"You may be right, Doctor…You may be right," Ross acknowledged.

"C'mon, partner." Alex stepped around Bobby and opened the door. "Thank you for the special assignment, Captain," she said warmly.

"Yes…Thank you," Bobby said softly.

Bobby struggled with his feelings and thoughts as Alex drove back to his home. He was confused. His head hurt. His body hurt. He began to believe that his throat hurt. "Maybe I am coming down with something," he thought.

"You ok?" Alex asked as they neared his house.

"Just…confused," he confessed.

"It'll be ok," Alex assured him.

When they reached his home, Bobby stumbled into the living room and collapsed on his couch.

"I'm going to fix some tea," Alex said. "You want some?"

"Yea…Thank you…" Bobby fumbled with the TV remote.

In the kitchen, Alex heard Bobby flip through different stations. "Guys and the remote," she thought. The flipping stopped when he reached a station carrying the NYPD/FBI press conference on the Sebastian cases. Alex stepped from the kitchen to the entry to the living room. An impressive roster of NYPD and FBI Brass stood behind a lectern with a flock of microphones. The Chief of Detectives was in the front row, but Alex saw Captain Ross hovering in the back. He was one of the few not trying to force his way to the front. The head of the FBI's New York field office was in charge of the conference, and Alex admitted that he spread the credit for the capture and confessions of Mark Caldwell and Thomas Linley throughout the task force. Some of those cops and agents stepped forward at the mention of their names. Alex was about to ask if Bobby had heard his name mentioned when the FBI man said, "Unfortunately the officer most responsible for the capture of these vicious killers couldn't be here today. NYPD Detective Robert Goren has the flu. His work was amazing, especially considering that he was a victim of these men. The success of this investigation is due to Detective Goren's efforts. His interrogations of Mark Caldwell and Thomas Linley resulted in the discovery of the bodies of many victims. I certainly hope Detective Goren recovers soon and can enjoy his well deserved congratulations."

Alex, with no little sense of satisfaction, saw that the Chief of Detectives looked decidedly uncomfortable. She looked at the back of Bobby's head and realized that it jerked with every compliment.

"Bobby…"

"I…I'm fine," he said in a low voice.

Alex stepped closer to the couch. "You should be very proud. High praise…"

"That I don't deserve…"

She was about to respond when she heard Bobby's name mentioned on the television. Reporters were asking questions, and one wanted to know when Detective Goren might be available for an interview. Bobby flinched.

"We hope he can join us for another conference in the near future," the Chief of Detectives said. Captain Ross looked very unhappy.

Alex walked to the TV and turned it off. "Bastard," she spat.

Bobby shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "I…I'm sorry…I should've gone for a nature program…"

"Hey…I was curious too," Alex said. "The Chief his usual self promoting…"

"Sounds like I'll be meeting the press in the near future," Bobby said shakily.

"Not unless I'm with you," Alex declared.

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck.

The tea kettle whistled loudly.

"I'll be back with the tea in a minute," Alex said.

She walked back to the kitchen, pulled two mugs from the shelf, placed a tea bag in each, and poured boiling water over them. She stirred sugar into both mugs. As she picked the mugs up, she thought she heard a faint click.

"Bobby?" she called. There was no answer.

She carried the two mugs into the living room, and stared at the couch. Bobby was gone.

END CHAPTER 41


	42. Chapter 42

CHAPTER 42

"Don't panic," Alex thought. "He's in another room…" She knew the thought wasn't true even as it passed through her brain. She knew the sound she'd heard was the front door opening and closing, but she still moved through the house to make sure Bobby wasn't there. Satisfied he wasn't in the house, she returned to the front hallway. His coat, keys, and wallet were gone. His gun, badge, and cell phone lay on the small table near the door. Alex looked out a window to the garage. Her car blocked the exit, and she knew Bobby hadn't taken his car.

"He's out," Alex thought. "He's out walking, and he didn't take his cell. He doesn't want to talk to me or anyone. I should call for help…No…He needs some time alone…I've been living in his pockets…A lot has happened to him…He needs to sort it all out…You've got to trust him…But what if…He gets drugs or drunk…Or hurts himself?" Alex shook her head. "I gotta trust him…I have to let him know that I trust him…I can't hover over him…Smother him…I'll give him a couple of hours…"

She settled in for two of the longest hours of her life, longer than the time she spent in the hospital waiting for news of Joe's fate or the time she spent in labor with her nephew. She drank her tea. She looked at the many books on Bobby's shelf. She watched TV. The last was a bad move. Every channel—even the weather channel, it seemed—reported on the conclusion of the Sebastian case. Alex's resolve had crumbled and she was about to grab her keys and rush out in search of Bobby when her cell phone rang. She didn't recognize the number, but answered it before the first ring ended.

"I…I'm sorry," Bobby said in a low, apologetic voice.

Alex tried not to cry in relief. "It's…It's ok…Are you all right?"

"That might be an exaggeration." Alex heard voices and glasses clinking in the background. "But…I'm better…I…I needed some time…Alone…To think…To sort things out…"

"That's what I thought," Alex said. "That's why I didn't come after you…Not that I knew where to go…"

"I…I didn't know that myself," Bobby said. "I…I'm sorry…The press conference…It all got too much for me…I had to get away…To clear my head…I…I'm still not used to having someone I can trust…That I can talk to…I trust you…I really do…Maybe it's me I don't trust…I…I'm coming home…If…If I can…"

Alex discovered she wasn't really angry at Bobby. "Of course you can come home," she said. "It's your house, for heaven's sake. Would you like me to pick you up?"

"No," he said quickly. "The walk will be good for me…"

"Ok." Alex decided the last thing Bobby needed was to be pushed.

"Alex…I…I'm glad you're there…I…I…Please…Will you wait for me?"

"Of course," she said after a moment. "Of course…"

"Thank you…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "I…I love you."

"I love you too."

Alex waited for the next hour with wildly shifting emotions. Relief didn't begin to express what she felt about Bobby calling her, but his words and the tone of his voice troubled her. She wasn't sure what she was feeling when Bobby finally walked through his front door. He carried a bouquet of flowers like a shield in front of him and handed her a bag of Skittles.

"Hi," he said shyly. "Uh…These are for you…A small and entirely inadequate expression of my gratitude and respect…I know you like Skittles better than chocolate, but I'm afraid they don't come in fancy boxes." He stared at the floor. "I…I have a confession to make…"

She stepped closer to him, and the scents of tobacco, Scotch and beer added to the flowers. Again, she didn't feel angry, but sad.

"How much?" she asked gently.

"Two Scotches. One beer. A couple of smokes. I…I'm pretty ashamed of myself…But…But I stopped…I did stop. And I called you…I…I hope that counts for something…"

"I think it does," Alex said softly. "Only the three drinks?"

"Yes…I…When I left here…I…I was thinking about drugs…" He swallowed. "But I couldn't…I couldn't…"

Alex pretended to examine the flowers.

"I…I'm almost sober now," Bobby said. "And I promise you I'll never do anything like this again."

"I believe you…"

"I owe you a lot…A lot…" Bobby said. "Including a good dinner. Could…Could I give you that this evening? But I…I understand if you don't want to be around me…"

"You're a good man," Alex said. "Of course I want to be with you. One slip…one under a lot of pressure…Doesn't change that…"

"Good…Good…Then…Ms. Eames…I would very much like to fix you dinner…"

"You're in shape to do that?" Alex asked gently.

"Yes…But I understand…And would appreciate…If you'd like to supervise…"

They worked happily in the kitchen, although Alex knew little about what Bobby was preparing beyond that it contained chicken and wonderful smelling spices.

"I gather this isn't a low calorie dish," she said.

"It isn't," Bobby said. "But it does have a lot of broccoli…And I am using lowfat cream."

Bobby shooed Alex from the kitchen as the dinner neared completion. Alex decided to change her clothes. When she returned, she discovered that a tablecloth and candles transformed the kitchen table. A few flowers Bobby had lifted from her bouquet rested in a small vase at its center.

"This is nice," she said from the doorway.

Bobby turned to her. "Wow," he said. "You…You look great…"

She wore her snug black jeans and black V neck sweater. "Thank you," she said. "I wasn't sure of the dress code."

"Whatever it is, you look much better than it requires…"

"Can I help?" she asked.

Bobby shook his head. "But you can sit down."

He carefully pulled out her chair for her.

"Thank you, Sir," she said solemnly.

"You're welcome." He paused. "You're sure…We're ok…What I did…"

Alex looked up at him. "I don't know what it's like for you…But I've seen other people deal with addictions. I've seen how hard it is. It was one slip. You were under unbelievable pressure. Of course I forgive you."

"I…I'll tell Huang," Bobby said. "Do…Do you think he'll be disappointed?"

Alex didn't know if she should laugh or cry.

"I don't think so," she finally said. "I think he'd be much more disappointed if you didn't tell him. I think he'll understand."

"Thank you." He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "I'll be right back."

It was a wonderful dinner. Alex had seen Bobby's charm in action many times, and had frequently been its subject. She knew that one of its goals this evening was to get her into his bed, but since one of her own hopes was that she might get there, she didn't mind. She wasn't above enjoying the experience of seduction. Something did gnaw at her, a sense that Bobby wasn't telling her something.

"He's cautious," she thought. "But maybe it's because in the last months we've had so many hopes dashed so many times. Maybe we're both waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"I hope," Bobby said as he gathered the dishes. "You're not expecting some complicated dessert."

"I'm full, thank you," Alex said, and stood to follow him into the kitchen.

She watched as he rinsed the dishes and placed them in the washer. As she watched him lean and stand, reach and pull, a great longing and desire filled her. It had been so long since she'd felt anything like these feelings that even when Alex recognized them they stunned her.

"Alex?"

Bobby stood a few feet away from her.

"I…Just…Just feeling some things I haven't felt in a long time…And never quite like this…" She smiled. "I think I know what I want for dessert." She stepped close to him and kissed him.

"Alex," he breathed when they finally broke the kiss. "Are you sure…"

"Yes…Oh…Yes…"

The first time they made love had been desperate, full of need and longing. Alex knew it had been more for Bobby than for her, although she cheerfully admitted that the experience provided her with a great deal of pleasure. This time, while the need and longing were still there, there was also tenderness and compassion, and Bobby focused his attentions on Alex. She'd heard the rumors, of course. She'd even spoken to one of his ex-girlfriends who admitted that she'd stayed in the relationship longer than she should have because the sex was great. But this wasn't just sex Alex and Bobby were having; this was love, and Alex had never experienced it in this way before. As wonderful as her first time had been with Bobby, this was more. He worshipped her with his hands and tongue and lips, creating flames of pleasure and then cooling and soothing the fires. She was delirious with pleasure long before the most intense organism of her life seized her.

She slowly returned to something resembling reality. She became aware she lay on Bobby's chest with his arms wrapped around her. He'd pulled the sheet and blanket around her, and his chin rested on her head.

"Wow," Alex murmured.

Bobby softly chuckled. "I take it," he said huskily. "That you're ok…"

"More than ok, "she said. She yawned.

"Go to sleep," Bobby said gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I love you," she whispered. The beat of heart and breaths lulled her to sleep.

END CHAPTER 42


	43. Chapter 43

CHAPTER 43 Final chapter

"No…No…Please…No…I'm sorry…Don't…No…"

Bobby's cries and shaking woke her. It took Alex several moments to realize where she was and what was happening. It wasn't a storm that woke her; it was Bobby in the throes of a nightmare.

"No…I'm sorry…Don't go…Please…" He twisted on the bed and sweat shone on his body.

"Bobby…Bobby…It's all right. You're safe. You're home. You're safe in your bed. I'm here. You're safe." Alex carefully and gently touched his cheek.

Bobby's eyes opened, and he stared wildly around him. He found and focused on Alex, and shuddered in relief.

"Alex!" he cried, and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. "Oh…Alex…"

He shivered, and Alex heard his heart pound and race.

"It's ok." She placed her palm on his chest. "I'm right here…You're safe…I'm here…"

He took several deep breaths, his hands roving through her hair, until he calmed.

"I…I'm sorry," he said. "Please…Give me a minute." He nearly jumped from the bed and winced as he stood. Alex nearly cried out when she saw the scars on his back. She was almost used to seeing them, but there were still moments when they shocked her.

"Bobby…"

"I…I'll be back…Just a minute." He strode out of the bedroom, leaving a confused Alex sitting on the bed.

"Ok," she thought. "He's spooked…" She reached for one of his shirts on the floor.

He returned from the bathroom and slipped on his boxers and T-shirt before he sat on the bed.

"The scars," he asked softly. "They scare you?"

"Sometimes," she admitted.

"Sometime they frighten me." He swung his legs up into the bed. He placed several pillows behind him and leaned against them. He opened his arms, and Alex nested against his chest. "Please," he said. "Please forgive me."

"Why? What is there to forgive?"

"I need to tell you something," he said softly. "I should've talked to you last night. Before…But…I couldn't…I…I wanted to be with you…To make love to you…To make you happy…I…It might have been the last time…"

"Bobby…What do you mean?" Alex tried to rise, but he clung to her.

"Please…Please don't run away…Please listen to me," he pleaded.

"Of course I'll listen to you…"

"Ok…Ok…" Bobby rested his chin on Alex's head. He took a deep breath. "I…I'm considering resigning from the Department."

Alex jerked in surprise, and Bobby's body stiffened in response.

"I'm not going anywhere," Alex said after a moment. "But why?"

"Things haven't changed," Bobby said. "I'm still the whack job. I'm still the guy some people think deserved a rat in his desk."

"Bobby…You know that most cops…That all of Major Case…"

"I know…I know what you and Ross and Huang keep telling me…I know a lot of cops looked for me…But even the ones who think I'm a good cop stare at me when I walk through the squad room. They stared at me when I first came to Major Case, and they'll stare at me when I leave it. And there're people in the Department…There's the Chief of Ds…If he didn't want me dead, he certainly doesn't want me around…"

"Bobby…Moran is…Well, a moron," Alex said. "There's plenty of the Brass that…"

"But most of it," Bobby said. "It at least doesn't want to be associated with me…And let's be realistic…They're not going to let me back on the job…Not really…Not a detective who was tortured by a notorious serial killer…And I can't blame them…What if I do snap?"

"Bobby…That won't happen…You're strong…"

"It doesn't matter what you and Ross and Huang think…They'll have to keep me on as window dressing…They can't fire me…Not after this…But they won't let me do the job…And…And I'm afraid." He swallowed. "I'm afraid they'll separate us…Of…If you stay with me…They'll keep you away from the job too…You've already given up so much…For you not to be able to do the job…It's wrong…"

"Bobby." Alex finally freed herself from his arms. "All of this wasn't your fault…You know that…"

"And there's Ross." Bobby continued as if he didn't hear Alex. "I may have ruined his career…He's had to protect me…"

"Bobby…"

"I'm a danger, Alex…I'm a danger to you and anyone who's with me…You're right…Most cops will back me up…But the few who won't…"

Alex struggled to find something to say to him.

"And…In the end…" Bobby shook his head. "I'm tired…It's so selfish…But I'm tired. I'm so tired. Tired of having my work and opinions questioned. I know I'm not perfect. But I have to explain everything. I have to hear you explain everything. I think I deserve a little trust. I'm tired of being used up and thrown away. I don't want medals and awards or attention or press conferences. But a "thank you" every once in a while would be nice. And…I'm tired of the stares. I'm tired of not being part of the group. I…I know I'm not one of the guys…I've never been one of those guys who was one of the guys…But…But…"

He struggled not to cry.

"It's not going to happen," Bobby said. "Any more than it was going to happen when I played ball or when I was in the Army…And it's just not worth trying any more…"

Alex tried to slow her racing thoughts.

"I…I haven't done anything," Bobby continued. "Because…I'm not sure what I'm doing…I didn't want to make any decision without talking to you…Because…The one great thing about the job…The reason I keep coming back…It…Because you…Because you're there…"

Alex wrapped her arms around him.

"Please…Alex…Please…" He buried his face in her neck. "Please…Don't leave me…Don't…"

"Bobby…Calm down…I'm not going anywhere…Please…"

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…I…This must be…I must be such a disappointment to you," Bobby whispered against her neck.

"No…No… Never…Confusing, but never a disappointment…" Alex rubbed his back. "Let…Let's talk about this…If…If you'd leave…" It was hard for her to say the words. "What would you do?"

Some of the tension left his body.

"I…I'm not sure…The FBI might want me now…But that would be just like the Department…The stares and the whispers…I may have as many enemies there as I do here…I could always work with the firm Deakins is with. He got me some work when I was on suspension, and he told me if I ever needed or wanted any work…I could teach. I have a Masters, and could probably put together a dissertation if I was willing to go through the class work…I've had some offers from Hudson and other schools…I might even write my memoirs…" He smiled weakly. "That might make some people nervous."

"You've got some definite leads?"

"Yes…The bad thing about any job outside the department is that…I won't be with you…At least at work…"

"I…I won't leave you," Alex declared. "You…You've got good arguments…And the one really good thing…The best thing…We wouldn't have to hide…We could be together…"

"That…That's a very big reason." Bobby brushed his lips across her hair. "I…The job…It's all I had for so long…But now…There's you…And this…" One of his hands waved. "Being with you is much more important than the job."

Alex couldn't breathe or think for several moments. She hugged Bobby tightly. "I…I…" she said when she could trust her voice. "I know how much the job means to you…For you to put me above it…Wow…"

"You…You're not upset?" Bobby's hand roved through Alex's hair.

"No…We'll work this out…" Alex raised her body so that she could look into Bobby's eyes. "We've survived so much…We'll make it…"

Bobby smiled at her. "Ok…"

"You're a good, brave man, Robert Goren. And I love you. Don't ever forget that."

END


End file.
